FROM-THE- LIBRARY OF
TR1NITYCOLLEGETORDNTO
LIFE AND LETTERS
OF
BROOKE FOSS WESTCOTT
Life and Letters
of
Brooke Foss Westcott
D.D., D.C.L.
Sometime Bishop of Durham
BY HIS SON
ARTHUR WESTCOTT
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I
ilontion
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
All right* reserved
5/7?
" To make of life one harmonious whole, to realise the
invisible, to anticipate the transfiguring majesty of the Divine
Presence, is all that is worth living for." B. F. W.
First Edition March 1903.
Reprinted April and October 1903.
11980G
SEP 6 1985
FRATRI NATU MAXIMO
DOMUS NOSTRAE DUCI ET SIGNIFERO
PATERNI NOMINIS IMPRIMIS STUDIOSO
ET AD IPSIUS MEMORIAM
SI OTIUM SUFFECISSET
PER LITTERAS CELEBRANDAM
PRAETER OMNES IDONEO
HOC OPUSCULUM
El US HORTATU SUSCEPTUM
CONSILIIS AUCTUM ATQUE ADIUTUM
D. D. D.
PRATER NATU SECUNDUS.
A. S., MCMIII.
FRATRI NATU MAXIMO*
Haec tibi iure au-o magm monumenta Parentis
Maiori natu, frater, amore pari.
Siquid inest dignum, laetabere ; siquid ineptttin,
Non mihi tu censor sect, scio, frater eris.
Sets bene quam duri fnerit res ilia laboris,
Quae melius per te suscipienda ftiit.
Tu dux, tu nobis renovati nominis l heres,
Agminis et nostri signifer unus eras.
Scribendo sed enim spatitim, tibi sorte negatum,
Importuna minus fata dedere mihi:
Et leviiis visum est infabrius arma tulisse
Quam Patre pro tanto nil voluisse pati.
lamqtie opus exactum est quod, te suadente, subivi .
Accipe : iudicio stetque cadatque tuo.
Lectorum haud dubia est, rear, indulgentia ; nato
Quod frater fratri tu dabis, ilia dabit.
Nee petimus latides : magnam depingere vitam
Ingenio fateor grandius esse meo.
Hoc erat in votis, ut y nos quod amavimus, illud
Serus in externis continuaret amor.
Sat mihi si Patris dilecta resurgat imago
Qualis erat forma, lumine, fronte, gradu.
Sat mihi si, quali vivus, Pater ore loqtiatur,
Perque meas nubes fulgeat igne suo.
i See p. 3 .
* For these verses and for the inscription on the preceding page I am indebted to
friend of my Father. A. W.
PREFACE
BY CANON WESTCOTT
MY brother kindly allows me to say a few words by
way of preface to the Life which he has written as a
tribute to a sacred memory. This I am very glad to
do on many accounts. It enables me to voice the
gratitude of my brothers and sisters to him for under
taking and carrying out what must always be a diffi
cult, though it be a congenial task, the compiling of
the memoirs of a father. It also enables me to ex
plain why I did not take this duty on myself. It
might have seemed to belong to me naturally as the
eldest son, and so I could not help feeling. But my
brother had comparative leisure, and I had none ; he
had had experience in the paths of letters, and I
had not ; so he gladly undertook work which to me
would have surely proved a very serious burden, even
had I been able to achieve it. And there is in it a
certain fitness. The Lives of two of my father s dearest
friends have been written by the " Arthurs " of their
families, and now our " Arthur " has rendered a similar
VOL. i A 2
viii LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT
filial service to the memory of him who was their
comrade in old days.
How his work will appear to other readers it is
hard for me to tell. Whatever is written of our father
must be seen by his children through a halo of hero-
worship. I cannot but believe, however, that these few
chapters, so simple and so direct, will convey a worthy
impression even to those who did not know my father
personally. About his earlier days he was very reticent.
And so it has come about that we who knew him best
have gathered fresh ideas of him whom we so revere
from such records as were found when he had gone
from us. For instance, those who met the teacher in
after years would never have guessed he had passed
through a struggle of grievous doubt his faith was so
serene, so obviously unshaken. We know now it was
not always so, as these pages will disclose to those
who care to read. And even our conceptions of
the oneness of that life have been heightened and
enhanced by what my brother has found and brought
to light.
Of the work of the textual critic others must judge ;
of the work of the theologian, the teacher, or the
preacher it is hardly for his children to speak. What
we treasure above all is the unspeakable heritage of a
life which was daily lived before our eyes upon the
loftiest plane of Christian principle. This it is (I hope
and believe) which my brother s careful work of
editing and selecting and explaining will tend to
bring into prominence. His work will fall short of
PREFACE ix
success if it does not achieve this result. But I truly
think it will. Devout people on the small scale are
(thank God !) common enough. The life of every
society is freshened and beautified by their simple
faith and love. But my father s was a devotion on
what may be truthfully called the very grandest scale.
As such it was exposed to a certain misconstruction.
" Unsound " or " shadowy " or " mystical " were terms
often applied to him. There were even who doubted,
through misunderstanding of the man, his fidelity to
the very foundations of the Faith. But to all who
came near to him the irresistible truth was cer
tainly brought home, that here was a servant of
Christ who served Him every day and all the day.
He would often say of himself that there was inborn
in him a spirit of " puritanism." By this he meant, of
course, that the sense of life s intense seriousness was
always with him. And so it was. Holidays he could
hardly take ; he found no joy in them, and more
especially so in later years. Expenditure on self was
all but impossible. Sometimes the keen delight he took
in the realisation of the fulness of family life would
lead him to unbend ; yet seldom can one have lived
who kept the bow of duty so assiduously strung. This
intense earnestness was a help to very many while he
lived ; and so it should be still, and doubtlessly it will
be. I think also my brother has gone the very
nearest way to bring this thing about. Without judg
ment or criticism, without word of praise or blame, he
has faithfully tried to bring before the reader the
x LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT
sketch of a striking life. It will appeal to whom it
will appeal ! But I think they will not be few. At
least it is an offering (in which we all would share) of
real sonly devotion to the memory of a father who was
worshipped by his children beyond the common.
F. B. WESTCOTT.
SCHOOL HOUSE, SHERBORNE,
2yd January 1903.
EDITOR S NOTE
As my brother has explained the circumstances which
caused the writing of this work to devolve on me, and
has set forth the general character of my work, it
only remains for me to express our gratitude to the
many friends who have furthered our endeavour by
their generous assistance. Some we would thank for
the loan of letters written by my father, and for per
mission to make use of the same ; others for contri
buting valuable personal reminiscences. I mention no
names, knowing that the help of all, whatever its
amount, was in each case offered in the simple desire
to do honour to the memory of one whom they loved.
I have throughout been conscious that the advice given
to me by my father when I was a boy l is as appropriate
now as then, but much of the putty which I have em
ployed in this work has, I hope, been honest putty,
serving a proper office in binding together the more
solid matter supplied by others. It is perhaps unfor
tunate that the conventions of the press have required
that the putty should be displayed in the larger type,
1 Vol. i. p. 344.
xi
xii LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT
whereas the sound material furnished by my father and
his friends is relegated for the most part to the smaller
character ; but I do not hold myself responsible for
that arrangement, and the judicious reader, after this
fair warning, has the remedy in his own hands. It is
a matter for congratulation that the smaller type
portion of this work is so large, and it has been
my aim, as far as possible, to let my father reveal
himself.
I am also deeply conscious of the generous trust
reposed in me by the other members of the family,
especially by my elder brother, who, though far more
competent than myself to discharge this filial duty, has
fully acquiesced in his enforced withdrawal from the
congenial task, and has contented himself with the
humbler part of reading the proof and correcting
obvious errors, leaving me, at what cost I know not,
to do my work in my own way. I am also greatly
indebted to Miss Cordeux for similar aid.
It seems right that I should add that, in reading
through many thousands of letters written to my
father (the rapid perusal of which, I cannot but remark,
has wonderfully illustrated the reverent esteem in which
so many held him), I have sometimes found a copy of
his reply in his own or some other familiar handwriting.
Such letters I have occasionally used.
CRAYKE RECTORY,
Conversion of St. Paul, 1903.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
FAMILY AND BOYHOOD
Birth and parentage Some forefathers School-days His schoolboy
Diary Reminiscences of school friends His tribute to his Master
Letters (1838-1844) . . . Page I
CHAPTER II
CAMBRIDGE : UNDERGRADUATE LIFE
First impressions Manner of life First successes Extracts from Diary
The Philological Society Visit of the Queen and Prince Albert
Sunday School More extracts from Diary Triposes Described by
a contemporary Letters (1845-1848) . . 34
CHAPTER III
CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE
Reading party in Wales Private pupils Extracts from Diary First visit
to the Continent Norrisian Essay Ordination Temporary work at
Harrow Candidature for Jersey College Testimonials Poetry
Letters (1848-1852) . . .104
xiii
xiv LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT
CHAPTER IV
HARROW
1852-1861
School duties Marriage Tour in South of France History of the Canon
of the New Testament and other literary work Visit to Dresden Im
pressions of pictures Reminiscences by Harrow pupils The spirit
of his work Cambridge " Protest" Cambridge sermons and literary
work Visit to "the home of his ancestors" Agitation about
Essays and Reviews Visit to Oxford The Hulsean Professorship
Letters ...... Page 173
CHAPTER V
HARROW (continued}
1862-1869
Visit to Tintern The Bible in the Church The Norrisian Professorship
Visit to Bishop Prince Lee The Gospel of the Resurrection La Salette
School teaching of Natural Science Literary Essays History of the
English Bible The Coenobium Farewell to Harrow The Head
master s impressions Letters .... 243
CHAPTER VI
PETERBOROUGH
1869-1883
First impressions and sermons Journey to Gersau Essays on Cathedral
Work Direction of theological students Nave services Some
favourite novels Ecclesiastical Courts Commission Some animal
friends Lecture on Monastic Life Dictionary of Christian Anti
quities and Origen With his children Resignation of canonry The
Revelation of the Father Letters . . . . 301
CHAPTER VII
A MINSTER MEMORY . . 350
(Contributed by Precentor Phillips)
CONTENTS xv
CHAPTER VIII
CAMBRIDGE
1870-1890
Elected to Regius Professorship His Lectures The Religious Office of the
Universities The Preliminary Examination of candidates for Holy
Orders The Clergy Training School The Cambridge University
Church Society and Delhi Mission The Eranus The New Testa
ment Revision The Greek Testament Governor of Harrow School
Fellow of King s College His work on behalf of University Extension
The Cambridge Memorial on Church Reform His portrait for the
University Closing testimonies Letters . . Page 366
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Photogravure Portrait. From a Photograph by Goshawk,
Harrow, 1859 . . . . Frontispiece
Ludlow Church. From a Pencil Sketch by B. F. Westcott
(June 17, 1845) - i?
View from No. 7 Jesus Lane. From a Pencil Sketch by
B. F. Westcott . . . . -34
The Great Court, Trinity College. From a Pencil Sketch
by B. F. Westcott (August 8, 1846) . . 44
Peterborough Cathedral, from South-East. From a Pencil
Sketch by B. F. Westcott (Sept. 24, 1847) . . in
South -West Spire of Peterborough Cathedral. From a
Sketch by Canon Westcott . . . .318
Gateway at Cambridge. From a Sketch by Professor
Westcott . . . . . .425
xvn
CHAPTER I
FAMILY AND BOYHOOD
BROOKE Foss WESTCOTT was born in Birmingham
on the 1 2th January 1825, and was baptized in St.
Philip s Church on February the 7th. His father,
Frederick Brooke Westcott, was a man of a retiring
disposition, and lived for the most part a quiet home
life, being much devoted to scientific pursuits. He was
an ardent geologist, but his more especial study was
botany. He was for some years Hon. Secretary of
the Birmingham Horticultural Society, and Lecturer
on Botany and Vegetable Physiology at Sydenham
College Medical School, Birmingham. He was also
joint author with Mr. G. B. Knowles of The Floral
Cabinet and Magazine of Exotic Botany, a work in three
quarto volumes, which I have seen described as valuable
and scarce. Mr. F. B. Westcott married Sarah, daughter
of Mr. William Armitage, a much respected Birmingham
manufacturer. The future bishop was their only surviv
ing son.
My father was named after his grandfather, Brooke
Foss Westcott, concerning whom there is little on
record, save that he incurred his parents displeasure by
VOL. I B
2 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
insisting on entering the army. The fact of his being an
only son led his parents to oppose his military ardour.
In punishment for this offence his mother left him
500 only, on condition that he did "not come within
twenty miles of London within one calendar month
after" her decease. His mother s spinster sister, how
ever, treated the soldier with greater generosity. Brooke
Foss Westcott, on his retirement from the army, resided
at Ludlow, and he and his wife are buried in Bromfield
Churchyard. This Captain Westcott had an only sister,
who married a French count. The sole issue of this
marriage was a daughter, Celestine de Varreux, by whose
request the cross of St. Louis bestowed on her father by
the " martyred king " (Louis XVI.) was ultimately for
warded to my mother, and is now a treasured heirloom.
A more interesting personage was my father s great
grandfather, Foss Westcott, who was a member of
the Honourable East India Company s Madras estab
lishment during the years 1741-57. He appears to have
been a man of considerable ability and independence of
character. In 1749 he stood alone in objecting to the
Tanjore expedition in favour of Sahaji Maharaja, and
has recorded his autograph disapproval in the Consulta
tions Book of the Government of Fort St. David in the
following terms :
I Dissent from the above Expedition, Because I am of
Opinion that it is repugnant to my Hon ble Masters Interest.
Foss WESTCOTT.
Herein, I take it, he showed his superior know
ledge of affairs. In the same year he was appointed
one of the two Commissaries to represent the Com
pany in the treaty for the evacuation of the fort and
town of Madras by the French. On this occasion he
met in council the famous Frenchman Dupleix. Two
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 3
years later he was sent out on an annexation expedi
tion pure and simple, being entrusted with " some
small colours to hoist occasionally," whenever he could
conveniently do so, to the exclusion of the French,
and without the Nabob " taking any umbrage at it."
This delicate service he executed with zeal and fidelity.
For the next year or two, amid constant threatenings
of French and " Morattas," he laboured at his invest
ments, and " with all submission begged leave to differ "
from the Council of Fort St. George on divers matters ;
nor was he a whit dismayed at the prospect of a siege,
when the best part of his garrison consisted of " about
thirteen Europeans, all foreigners and deserters, amongst
whom there is not one capable of levelling a gun or
throwing a shell." On the plea of ill -health and
urgent private affairs, he said farewell to India in 1757.
On arriving in England, Foss Westcott assumed, no
doubt for sufficient reasons, a coat of arms appertaining
to the Devonshire " Westcotts " or " Westcotes." He
adopted, however, a slight difference, and invented for
himself a new motto : Renovato Nomine. Herein we
see that he was proud of having raised up an old
family to a position of comparative wealth and pros
perity. My father was the sole eponymous descendant
of this Indian " nabob," and in reference to the new
family motto, I have known him to remark playfully,
as he surveyed his seven sons, that he had not been
unfaithful thereto.
Foss Westcott married twice. From his first wife,
Anne Pye, whom he married in Madras, 1 was descended
George Foss Westcott, who at one time commanded
a company of the 77th Foot in India, and served in
1 Mrs. Ann Wescott (sic) is buried in Madras, as is also her son George
Westcott of the Madras Civil Service. f
4 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the Peninsula and at the battle of Waterloo. Major
Westcott, as we have usually called this distant cousin
of ours, was a man of very strong religious feeling.
This is of interest, because my father s immediate
ancestry and home surroundings do not satisfactorily
account for his intensely religious temperament, which
must have been in some degree inherited. Writing to
my grandfather in 1848, Major Westcott says : " I am
interested in my young cousin s success. . . . But what
are all the attainments the human intellect can arrive
at, compared with the one thing needful ? I pray the
Lord that you may each and all have but this one
object in view. ... I do hope my young cousin s fine
and gifted intellect is turned to the study of Scripture."
Surely the good old soldier s prayers were not in vain.
His gifted young cousin did indeed search the Scriptures,
and by prayerful study was enabled to interpret them
for his own and others needs in no ordinary measure.
Foss Westcott s second wife, from whom we are
descended, was Mary Gallant, whose mother s maiden
name had been Martha Brooke. With this lady one
line of the Brooke family expired, and my grandfather
had the satisfaction of being demonstrated to be one of
the four co-heirs of a Joseph Brooke, who is said to
have distinguished himself on the Royalist side in the
Civil War. Such is the origin of the name Brooke in
our family. It has been borne amongst us for five
generations now. Whence the name Foss is derived
is a matter that no one yet appears to have considered.
Foss Westcott was buried at Cobham in Kent.
His hatchment was placed over the chancel arch, and
there are mural tablets in the church, erected in memory
of him and his first wife.
My father s first tutor was the Rev. Theodore Short,
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 5
curate of Erdington, a village near Birmingham, in
which his earliest years were spent. When my father
last visited Erdington he lamented that almost all the
landmarks of his childhood s memory had disappeared.
Though the house in which he lived has been de
molished, his memory is still cherished in the family
of his nurse Jemima Allen (Mrs. Barlow), " who taught
the future bishop his letters and first little words." 1
In 1837, when he was twelve years old, he began to
attend King Edward VI. s School in Birmingham. At
the age of fourteen he had reached the highest form in
the school, and was under the immediate care of the
headmaster, Mr. Prince Lee, afterwards the first Bishop
of Manchester. Mr. Lee thus reports of him in that year
(1839): "Very industrious, persevering, and attentive.
General reading very good. Deserves much praise."
In his first Latin dictionary my father has preserved
a record of his school, and indeed of his whole career ;
for the first entry is "Easter, 1837, Mr. Gedge s, ist,"
and the last is " Durham, 1889."
In his early boyhood the young Westcott led a
somewhat lonely life. His only sister was twelve years
younger than himself. He himself, in his Cambridge
days, remarked on this loneliness : " I had no elder
brother to obey ; no younger brother to please. I had
no companions, no friends ; and though I thankfully
acknowledge that thus I avoided many dangers and
temptations, yet consequently I was as proud and over
bearing as a little fellow well could be, and many a
struggle it costs me even now to gain that temper
which is best learnt by the self-denials of home." But
for all that he is described by one 2 who occasionally
1 Erdington Parish Magazine, August 1901.
2 Mr. W. Tait, of Bromley, Kent.
6 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
met him in his Christmas holidays spent at Ashby-de-
la-Zouch as being a high-spirited and enterprising boy,
who manufactured fireworks wherewith to startle his
young girl cousins, and delighted in firing off an elderly
pistol with the same intent.
The following reminiscences of my father s boyhood
are supplied by various of his school contemporaries : l
" Young Westcott " was " a shy, nervous, thoughtful
boy from the first," "seldom, if ever, joining in any games."
He had a " sweet, patient, eager face " ; " an intensity
and keenness of look " ; "a habit of shading his eyes
with one hand while he thought " ; "a quick and eager
walk, with head bent forward ; his smile, wonderfully
winning then, as now"; was "devoted to work, and, in
consequence, once fainted in school." He was also
noted for the " authoritative decision " of his answers
in class ; and for his conversation out of school about
things "which very few schoolboys talk about -points
of theology, problems of morality, and the ethics of
politics." It was often his duty to take the " Absence
Book " round to the different masters, and Mr. Gedge
(the second master) would take the opportunity of
asking the boy s opinion on some passages in the Greek
play or Herodotus which his own class was reading.
Westcott was also proficient in drawing, and his
"beautiful, finely-outlined sketches" are still remembered.
His younger schoolfellows regarded him with a
certain awe as one altogether above themselves, and
his influence over them was as good as it was great.
Thus, one writes : " One of the chief features of his
school life was his reverence. To see his pained face
when any wrong or rash word was spoken was a lesson."
1 They were collected by a writer in The Rock from Edgbastonia (April
1891).
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 7
And another : " The beauty of his character shone out
from him, and one felt his moral goodness in his
presence." And a third : u An atmosphere of light
and purity surrounded him, and his smile and kindness
and courtesy, which was real and constant to any small
boy who had to deal with him, only made us feel that
it would be unbearable to rouse his anger or even dis
approval."
As a boy my father took the keenest interest in the
Chartist movement, and the effect then produced upon
his youthful imagination by the popular presentation
of the sufferings of the masses never faded. His diary
shows how he deserted his meals to be present at
various stirring scenes, and in particular to listen to
the oratory of " the great agitator," presumably Feargus
O Connor himself. He would often in later years
speak of these early impressions, which served in no
small degree to keep alive his intense hatred of every
form of injustice and oppression. He even later
disapproved of his father s fishing excursions, because
his sympathies were so entirely on the side of the fish.
On one occasion, being then a little boy, he was carry
ing the fish-basket, when his father put a live fish into
it, and late in life he used to declare that he could still
feel the struggles of that fish against his back.
While still a schoolboy Westcott became acquainted
with his future wife. The story of their first acqaint-
ance as related by my mother is somewhat to this
effect : One day as he (i.e. my father) was coming
home from school he saw a little boy being knocked
about by a big street boy. Although the big boy was
several sizes larger than himself, he immediately flew
to the rescue of the little boy, and by the vigour of his
onslaught altogether routed the bully and delivered the
8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
little fellow. In gratitude to his champion the liberated
lad, whose name was Thomas Middlemore Whittard, 1
took him to his home and introduced him to his people.
My mother, whose name was Sarah Louisa Whittard,
was the eldest of three sisters. 2 She afterwards, at the
time of her confirmation, at my father s request, took
the name of Mary in addition. During the year 1842
my father, being then seventeen years old, kept a diary,
in which there is frequent mention of my mother under
the symbol <l>. 3 The following are some extracts from
this his earliest diary :
6th January 1842. At home all day. Began Italian.
Quite the finest modern language.
\$th February (Sunday). Mr. Lee advances doctrine of
Baptismal Regeneration.
i8M March. Mr. Lee rants against everybody, and then
praises them. Fie, sir, fie !
T-gth April This day I am seized with a poetic fit, and
at one sitting write 130 English verses on the Isles of Peace !
Q catches me in the middle !
1 Tth May. Plan our magazine.
2$rd May. Great discussion with Evans about our
magazine. Get the proofs of the prospectus.
$th August. Began "History of School."
1 >]th August. Go to school again. Riots are all the talk.
Great prophecies for Tuesday.
2 2nd August. Riots to be to-day. Dine on two biscuits.
Run out with 4> in the evening.
ist September. The great day of the year <l> s birthday.
$rd September. Get an editor s copy of the magazine and
1 The Rev. T. M. Middlemore- Whithard is now living in retirement at
Exmouth. He was formerly Professor of English Literature in Victoria
College, Jersey (1852-1863), and Headmaster of the Junior Department of
Cheltenham College (1863-1885).
2 The second sister, Jane Elizabeth, married Mr. D. Phillimore ; the
youngest, Mary Caroline, married the Rev. J. C. Whitley, the present
Bishop of Chhota Nagpur.
3 Presumably the initial letter of ^iXrdr^ = Dearest. The corresponding
symbol for my father was ft.
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 9
tantalise every one with the dedication and preface. Walk
to the Botanical Gardens with 3>.
$th September. The day of publication. Quite a rush.
Police wanted a perfect riot. 230 copies disposed of.
22nd September. The Society of Arts open to-day
magnificent pictures. Dine nowhere. Have tea at home.
$th October. Our second publishing day. A very good
sale. Better than last at present.
2^th October. Go to give <i her drawing lesson (to do
which I give up two other important engagements, willingly),
and do not even see her.
N.B. Not very pleasant. Am going to the Red
Indians.
\ f ]th November. Evans in doubt about the Balliol. I am
booked for Exeter. 1
20//J December. Prizes given out. I certainly get my
share. In evening I go with Tom 2 to the wizard ; but he
dares not perform before us. We go to Society of Artists.
$\st December. Am quite desperate and read 300 lines of
the Philoctetes before breakfast. Finish it in afternoon and
am now intending to enjoy myself and see <. So may it be.
TO> eo).
In the diary, as quoted above, mention is made of
the magazine. This was the school magazine, of which
my father, with two of his chief school friends, Evans 3
and Purton, 4 was joint editor. No. I of King Edward
the Sixth s Magazine contains as its first article " A
brief History of King Edward s School, Birmingham."
This being my father s first printed essay, I venture to
reproduce its opening paragraph, as a sample of his
earliest literary style :
1 He afterwards gave up Exeter, Oxford, in favour of Trinity, Cam
bridge. Evans also went to Trinity.
2 T. M.-Whithard.
3 Craven University Scholar, Senior Classic, 1847, and afterwards
Headmaster of the school at Birmingham.
4 ]. S. Purton was afterwards Tutor and Master of St. Catherine s
College, Cambridge, and rector of Chetton, Bridgnorth.
io LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
A sketch of the history of our Royal Foundation cannot
be unacceptable to those scholars who are at present enjoying
the advantages it offers ; while others who have entered on a
wider field of action must still feel an interest in the in
stitution which fostered their literary ardour at its first dawn.
The expressions of regret we often hear from those who leave
us sufficiently prove the latter assertion, without enlarging
on the ardent friendships, zealous studies, and boisterous
amusements, the very recollection of which seems to cast a
spell around the name of school, and render "each dim-
discovered scene " joyous with pleasing associations.
As head of the school Westcott once had the honour
of reading a Latin address of welcome to the Prince
Consort, in which the usual petition for a holiday was
embodied. The Prince smiled and bowed, but said
nothing about the holiday. Not to be beaten, young
Westcott rushed to his room, wrote out the address in
English, and again presented it to the Prince. So
the boys got their holiday. In speaking to the boys
of Durham School in 1890, my father recalled this
episode, a propos of their Latin address to him.
The diary was spasmodically resumed in 1844, anc *
I make therefrom a few more extracts :
bth January. In the afternoon <!> comes down to give me
my music lesson, but I am not a very apt pupil.
zgth January. How strange things will happen ! Go out
a ride to-day, and where do I go in fox-hunting ! and yet
break no limb, nay, do not even tumble at all.
yd February. < has been pretty industrious and draws
very well quite astonishes me, and I determine that wonders
will never cease, which is further proved by my reading
mathematics.
6th March. Go to have a view of the great agitator a
very clownish fellow he is too and he makes me go without
my dinner, though "angels delight to hear him," as Mr.
MacDonnell said.
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD n
27^ April Go to cricket again to-day, ist class against
the school beaten but not in one innings.
tfh May (Saturday). Recollections of the week dismal.
Mr. Lee ill nothing but mathematics and composition. I
become a member of Trinity; "Felix faustumque sit."
The Rev. T. M. Middlemore-Whithard, my mother s
brother, has kindly furnished the following interesting
recollections of my father s school-days :
" I cannot recall the exact time and occasion of my
first acquaintance with Brooke Foss Westcott. Although
three years and ten months his junior, I had entered
King Edward s School before he joined it, and just
before it was removed from the * Shakespeare Rooms
facing Bennet s Hill to the new buildings.
" It became a tradition in the family, cherished also
by the sister who was afterwards to become my friend s
wife, that our intimacy was not only cemented but
originated by his courageous rescue of me, an unknown
schoolfellow, from the assault of a rough street boy,
whom he fought and discomfited, surrounded by a
ring of sympathetic bystanders, who secured for him
fair-play, and congratulated him upon his victory. The
incident and the details are in the main exact and true,
and are ineffaceably impressed upon my memory, but I
also clearly recollect that on this occasion we were
walking together to school, when I was felled by a
stone-laden snowball, and that on rising again from
the ground I saw my champion, who had laid down
his books upon the kerb, just returning to pick them
up, while my assailant, in tears and amid jeers, was
slinking away. This, then, was not the beginning of
our acquaintance, and it was far from being the only
time that I owed protection to his courageous and un
selfish help. We were close neighbours in our homes,
12 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and I believe that through a common friend and a
relative of mine the intercourse between the families
began. It is confirmatory of this to note that by the
summer of 1838, when my parents removed to live in
a house of their own near Bristol, I became an inmate
of Mr. Westcott s house, and I remained there during
the school periods, sharing the same room with my
friend, until the autumn of 1841, when we returned to
reside in Birmingham. Mrs. Westcott, in a letter to
my mother dated 8th October 1838, says, Brooke
and Mid. are seldom a yard apart. At 6 P.M. they
are setting to their work, and they leave for school
together at 8 in the morning.
" The influence of the simple home life, controlled by
strict frugality, and marked on Mr. Westcott s part by
studious and engrossing devotion to scientific pursuits,
were such as to foster in the son a certain independ
ence of character, of individuality and strong will, but
which was not without some tendency at times to
moodiness and great reserve. His natural disposition
was shy and saturnine ; he was quick in taking offence
and forming dislikes, and in either case he would show
displeasure by long silence. He used at times to
complain that others would not take the trouble to
understand his temper. But with all this he was un
selfish and kind, never forgetful of any service done, and
always courteous, and even friendly, to his inferiors.
" I remember well the strong affection and grateful
regard that in many ways he manifested to an old
servant, who seemed to me to have little in manner or
appearance to render her attractive. He told me the
story, which he had learned from his mother, of how,
when he was an infant, she had saved him from
burglars, who, in the absence of all besides his nurse,
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 13
had attempted to force an entrance into their solitary
house at Erdington. Finding, when she went upstairs,
a ladder resting on a window-sill and a man just
mounting on it, with quick presence of mind she
opened the sash and threw the ladder and its occu
pant to the ground, then refastened the window,
snatched the baby from his cot, and rushing with him
to another room at the front, which was nearer to some
cottages, she locked herself in, and, opening the
window, attracted the notice and assistance of the
neighbours, by her cries and by clapping her hands
till they were black with bruises.
" In those early days I cannot recollect that he had
any school companions with whom he joined in boyish
games. He used his leisure chiefly in sketching, and
arranging his collections of ferns and butterflies and
moths, and in reading books of natural history or
poetry. It was not that he lacked physical aptitude
for athletic sports, and there was nothing that he ever
undertook without intensity of purpose and persevering
effort. He became an expert skater, and when in
later days he gave such little time as the scant oppor
tunities of a town school and a distant play - field
allowed, he was no mean proficient in school games.
His chief pastimes were, however, of a scientific kind.
There were frequent visits to the Mechanics Institute,
and with his father s assistance he procured a galvanic
battery, and in the early days, as it must have been,
of electro - metallurgy he obtained, from coins and
medals, matrices, from which he took casts in plaster
of Paris, and in this latter process I took a feeble part.
We also made gun-cotton, and amused ourselves in
taking sun pictures of ferns upon chemically-prepared
paper.
14 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
" I can recollect only two amusements of a more
trivial kind. The one was the erection of a marionette
theatre, in which, by the help of wires that worked
card-mounted figures, and more or less dramatic part-
readings from behind a curtain, we gave, no doubt,
thrilling representations to what must certainly have
been a very small and select company of spectators.
The other was practice with the leaping-pole, and this,
in the small yard behind the house, which served as
our only recreation -ground, was once attended with
an accident that might have brought to a premature
close a life that was destined to be so useful and so
great. I shall never forget the terror with which I
saw my friend, when, after many unavailing efforts, he
had at last succeeded in reaching with his feet the top
of the high boundary wall, fall, through the sudden
breakage of the pole, head downwards, and then lie
motionless, and apparently lifeless, on the ground. I
ran to him, and my cries soon brought more effective
help ; " but it was some time before we were cheered
by seeing consciousness return, and his father s and
mother s fears give place to the assurance that no
grave harm was done.
" Whenever a travelling menagerie came into the
town he eagerly took advantage of it, and often thus
at Wombwell s he would note the habits of the animals
and note in his sketch-book their movements and their
strange forms.
" There was another exhibition which also, at another
and later time, had a special attraction for him, and
induced many visits and much reading on his part.
This was Catlin s Indians. He learned up all that he
could find about the races, the history and customs of
the several tribes.
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 15
" Apart from the works of Walter Scott, knowledge
of which Prince Lee was very fond of testing in his
class, I never knew Brooke care to read any novels,
but he did make an exception with one or two of
Cooper s for his Red Indians sake.
" In the half-holidays we often went to the Botanic
Garden, where, while Mr. Westcott gave botanical
lectures to his pupils of the Sydenham College, we
played at bat and ball, or made dams and set up over
shot and undershot water-wheels in the rivulet that
drained the pond. In the summer months bathing in
one or other of the few pools in the river Rea, and
boating on the reservoir at Kirby s near Selby Oak,
had their attractions for him now and then.
" There were visits, too, to his father s friend, Mr.
Wilmot, at, I think, Oldbury, where he found much
pleasure in inspecting the pictures, of which there was
a somewhat large collection brought from Italy ; and
then again to Mr. Barker s and all the splendours of his
orchid-houses. At other times there were long walks
in search of specimens, and Brooke delighted in the
discovery of fresh habitats of special plants and mosses
and ferns, which he knew his father prized.
" On whole holidays it was his regular practice to
make expeditions to more distant places, and walk
twenty miles and more, and often I accompanied him,
not only when living with him, but in after years up to
his undergraduate days.
" Entrusted with a little pocket-money, sufficient for
the charges of our modest mid-day meal, we made an
early start, and beguiled the way looking for special
plants which his father asked for, or using and enjoy
ing his keen observation and sense of natural beauty,
as he pointed out to me some striking features in
1 6 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
wood and field, * the perfect beauty of the trees/ and
sometimes quoted lines of Wordsworth or other poets
in illustration of his feelings or descriptive of the scene.
Then when we reached the church, which was most
likely the special object of our walk, he would sit
down and sketch, and with a few rapid and suggestive
touches, afterwards to be completed, strike off in per
fect proportion the architectural character of the build
ing, not failing, however, to note carefully the mixture
of the styles, and to note the sections of the mouldings
in the different parts. His singular and natural aptitude
as a draughtsman had been fostered by his attach
ment to our drawing master, Peter Hamilton, who soon
regarded him as his favourite and most promising pupil,
and often to his great delight invited him to his rooms
to spend the evening and examine with him his large
collection of drawings, engravings, and designs.
"Although his own special tastes lay, I think, in
architectural delineation, he had great fondness for
painting and art of every kind, and one of the chief
treats, which he never failed to claim, was a visit to
the periodical exhibitions in the School of Arts, and
often I have heard his father and others seek his
opinion on the special points he noticed in the pro
ductions there. Several pictures I can now recall of
Maclise and Haydon and Etty and Cooper which he
criticised and explained for me. I have spoken of the
pleasure which he took as a boy in spending a quiet
evening with Mr. Hamilton, but I cannot refrain from
telling, as it just occurs to me, of his unselfish interest in
giving up time to assist an old lady friend of ours, who,
late in life, had set herself the task of learning Greek,
in order to read the New Testament in the original.
" After the comfortable tea and finding a short
m
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CJ X
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? *
5 i
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 17
amusement in lighting up an orrery, which she had
skilfully arranged with her own hands, he would spend
an hour or two, won by the sacrifice of leisure time
before, in teaching her ; and her grateful surprise at
his patience and care seemed to afford him the greatest
satisfaction, and he was always ready to accept her
invitation for more help.
" Few places in the neighbourhood of Birmingham
remained unvisited by us, and Bromsgrove, Dudley,
Halesowen, Sutton Coldfield, Coleshill, and even Lich-
field, were not beyond the limits of our explorations.
I remember well that we had one day a most kind
reception at Oscott College, where, coming as wander
ing schoolboys, without introduction or other claim,
we were taken over the whole building, and my friend
was shown some of the special treasures of the library
by one of the principal authorities, we learned after
wards, I believe, that it was the recently appointed
President, Dr. Wiseman, himself. A strange meeting,
considering the after careers of this boy and this
distinguished man.
" The fondness for country rambles found wider
scope at times either when he accompanied his father
on fishing excursions to Shropshire, or when he paid a
visit to his aunt at Ashby-de-la-Zouch. I have walked
with him in .our school-days the forty-two miles from
Birmingham, through Hagley, Bendley, and Cleobury,
over the Clee Hills to Ludlow ; and here while staying
with his relations for this town had been his grand
father Captain Westcott s home he found unfailing
interest in castle and church and timbered houses, or
in wandering in quest of fossils on the hills, or watch
ing his father play the grayling along the Teme banks
at Leintwardine.
VOL. I C
1 8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
" From Ashby, on foot, or by chance drives to
help us on the way, we went to Tutbury and Breedon,
Castle Donnington and Coleorton, and to this last
place he seemed attracted and to make as it were a
pilgrimage, because, he said, as he pointed out to me
the house upon the hill, that was the home of Sir
George Beaumont, the friend of Wordsworth, the
painter and patron of artists, who helped to found the
National Gallery and gave his pictures to it. Once
we went to the Carmelite settlement at Grace Dieu
and spent the whole day watching the monks labour
ing to bring under cultivation the barren Charnwood
soil, and for our mid-day meal we profite d gladly by
their simple hospitality in the guest-chamber, and
wished that we could have accepted their invitation to
spend the night there also.
" But now I must look back upon an experience of
the Bishop s early life which gives us, I think, a glimpse
into some special features of his character, and enables
us to note the first development of his interest in social
questions, in which hereafter he was to do such service
as a peacemaker, the enforcer of the recognition of
associated benefits and obligations in mankind. I was
very young, but I well recollect his telling me how,
when he was a child, I suppose in 1831, he had seen
Thomas Attwood lead a vast crowd of men to a mass
meeting of the political unions ; and then again, as we
stood together at his father s door in 1838, we saw this
same leader, who noticed us boys as he passed, proceed
to the great Chartist demonstration at Hollo way Head
close by.
"Then in 1839, possibly after we had witnessed
together the triumphal entry of Feargus O Connor
though I am sure only of this circumstance and not
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 19
of the date a time of still more serious disturbances
began. I read in a home letter of my own, 1 8th May,
4 There is a great disturbance in the town with the
Chartists. Two of the ringleaders were arrested
yesterday for sedition, Fussell and Brown. Brown
has been making speeches in the Bull Ring, inciting
the people, and blocking the thoroughfare. There
was a proclamation issued forbidding meetings, but
the people trampled it under foot. Then the magis
trates issued another, and now the Chartists have
come to the hill near here and are much more in
furiated than before, because their leaders have been
taken. There are lots of soldiers in the town, Cavalry
and Rifle Brigade. Afterwards, on I 5th July, the riots
took place, and on the morrow we went to see the
ruins of the houses that had been burnt, and the
soldiers posted in the streets. I used to hear Brooke
talk compassionately about these things with his cousin,
William Baxter, a young man engaged in business in
the town, and he seemed to me to find reasons and
excuses for what had happened.
" It was the same with some other matters that he
took a strange interest in not very long after that time,
especially in Mormonism, then first sending its emis
saries among the labouring classes of the town, and
later on in Positivism. He told me that all excesses
and mischievous delusions among men came from one
sided views of truth, and too great importance given
to one aspect of it, or else from people s assertion of
party needs ; that the way to combat error was to seek
the element of good in it, and show that its real
explanation and satisfaction were included in the
Bible ; that the surest plan to stop strife and dis
affection was to proclaim the common responsibilities
20 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
of the multitude and their fellowship with one another.
I cannot, of course, recall the doubtless simpler language
that he used in speaking to me of these things, but
the memory of his feeling on these subjects has ever
been vivid and permanent since boyhood s days. Posi
tivism, he said, claimed to be the religion of humanity,
and many features of it, he believed, would in the
future prove to be right, in so far as they appealed
not to individuals only but to communities, to mutual
duties and general aims.
" I recollect his procuring and studying the Book of
Mormon about 1840, and afterwards obtaining tracts
on Positive Philosophy, perhaps in 1842.
" As I read quite recently one of the Bishop s latest
books, Social Aspects of Life, when I caught there the
echoes of so many thoughts to which I had known
him give a fainter utterance in youthful days, I could
not fail to be struck by the testimony that it bore to
the continuity of his ideals and his views of life, and
to recognise how indeed in his case it had proved true
* that the child was father to the man.
" Age did but bring to him maturity of wisdom, a
fuller spirituality, a meeker gentleness, a clearer illumin
ation and joy of faith.
" The life of the Bishop even in his school-days was
eminently thoughtful and studious. As I look back
on it now I can detect its breadth of feeling and
opinion, the staid eclecticism which sought alone for
what was good and true. Earnestly and thoroughly,
I may say intensely, he threw himself into every work.
Apart from the recreations I have mentioned, I never
knew him indulge in mere pastimes or loitering indo
lence of any kind. Unflagging in effort and thoughtful
occupation, he even then had little time to play. Very
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 21
frequently he stayed in town on the whole school-days,
and, after a very short and frugal meal at a quiet
eating-house in Bull Street, or a few biscuits that he
ate as he walked, he would go to the Old Library,
for which we both had members tickets, and spend
the whole remaining time on voluntary classical work,
or in studying history and archaeology. Only occasion
ally, I think also for my sake, did he permit himself
to look at illustrated books, and of these I remember
specially Roberts Holy Land and Audubon s great
work on birds.
" The influence of his great teacher, Prince Lee,
found in his earnest and thoughtful spirit a most con
genial soil ; and the scorn of little and shallow things,
the love of moral and intellectual truthfulness, the
supremacy and permanency of goodness, the ardent
pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, the patient and
laborious investigation of the full significance of style
and single words, the desire to interpret the language
of every author first by the careful comparison of all
his other writings, and then by the light of all that
the widest reading of history and poetry could lend,
were stirred in him through the suggestiveness and
the enthusiasm which Lee conveyed in explanation
of the classics or in Bible lessons. He certainly was
among the worthiest of his pupils and the most loving
of his followers.
" Quiet and humble and retiring, he was, I think,
sought out by the sympathetic tenderness which
assuredly lay at the root of his master s character.
Some little peculiarities, such as the habit, preserved
throughout life, of closing his eyes as if asleep, and
resting his head upon his hand, were passed over in
his case, through fear, perhaps, of causing any dis-
22 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
couragement, though in others they would have failed
to find excuse. It would be startling to enumerate the
acquirements of his private work long before he went
up to Cambridge, and to tell the feats of his quick
and retentive memory, which gave him the marvellous
power of citation he possessed, and made him familiar
with almost every line of Virgil and Horace, and such
large portions of Juvenal, of Homer, and the Greek
tragic poets. I see in one of my earliest school letters,
Nov. 1838, this notice, * Mr. Lee has given permission
for voluntary preparation by heart, and Brooke will take
up at Easter 2600 lines of Virgil, and 500 of Homer ;
and once I myself heard him say the whole of a speech
of Cicero, the Second Catiline, which he offered as a
self-imposed holiday task.
" He was fond of music, and at one time gave up
pretty regularly some leisure in acquiring a little practi
cal efficiency. His knowledge of the theory was, how
ever, in advance of this, and I recollect he composed
several chants and hymn tunes. In a town like Birming
ham there were abundant opportunities of hearing the
best music, and many times we were present at concerts
in the Town Hall. I can see him in fancy now, there
or in our home, when my sister sang or played, sitting
with eyes covered, absorbed in listening, and taking in
as it were mysterious messages from the harmonies he
heard.
" Chess, too, claimed him as an aspirant to skill
upon its board. He liked much to get a game with
one of the masters, Mr. Calder, whom he greatly
respected, or with a cousin of mine who was often on
a visit to us while home on furlough from India, or
still more frequently with my sister, who, I fear, was
less enthusiastic than himself.
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 23
" I became one of Mr. Lee s own pupils in March
1844, and my friend made a note that on that day I
was * admitted to the privileges of the I st class/ so
that I was only for a few months, and at a reverential
distance from him, the witness of the performance of
his school work. I enjoyed, however, for years daily
intercourse with him, noted his assiduous toil, profited
by his counsels and his help. Many times a week he
came up to our house, usually prepared his work there ;
sometimes he remained for the night, or I went back
with him. I could always count upon his affection,
and I had ever before me what I may call the severity
of his example, that seemed at times to put too great
a strain upon my younger and far less elevated aims.
I have to regret some wrongheadedness and jealousy
that robbed me of the full fruits of his intimacy.
" These are after all but slight and confused remi
niscences of boyhood s days, in which I myself had some
immediate part. There is very much more to say.
I might tell of his relations with his more distinguished
school-fellows, as Keary, C. Evans, Rendall, Purton,
Holden, and T. Price. Except at school, the inter
course with the first three, who were boarders in Lee s
house, was rare, but Purton and Price he often met,
and with the former, who lived near, he liked to talk
not only of work and ambitions, but of his geological
and architectural rambles in the neighbourhood. Per
haps worthy of record also is the keen and active
interest he took in the editorship and preparation
of the school magazine, and the great delight he
felt in its earliest success ; but I was then a boy in
the fourth class, and could know nothing of the
anxieties and triumphs of authorship^ Many stories
could I tell of our fossil forays on the Cotswolds,
24 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and the long walks we took, and the camping- out
we attempted, while exploring churches or scenery.
I have a vivid recollection of a walk under dismal
circumstances, when we journeyed for something over
twenty-five miles into Bristol through pouring rain, and,
in spite of the purchase of two wisps of straw, from
which we improvised shelters that made us look like
walking sheaves, we arrived in the suburbs quite wet
through, travel-stained, and weary. As we approached
the turning where we had to leave the high-road, my
friend caught sight of a young girl crying, who was in
vain trying to draw a little carriage, with a couple of
clothes-baskets, up a hill. Brooke hurried forward and
seized the handle, asking the girl where and how far
she had to go. She pointed out a house at some
distance, and then he vigorously dragged up her load,
and having at last safely brought it to its destination,
returned to me and we resumed our way. We were
very tired and dispirited, but he was quiet, unpretend
ing, and generous as was his wont.
" I was much with him during his vacation times,
while an undergraduate, between the end of 1844 and
1847, an d soon after I went up to Trinity I became
his pupil and was there called into close association
with him, and with those who enjoyed the benefits of
his teaching and the inspiration of his friendship."
One of the latest entries in my father s diary of
1844, under date the 29th of June, tells of a call on
Mr. Lee, who was "full of good wishes and inspiring
with hope." With this last interview my father s
school-days ended. He owed very much to his hon
oured teacher, and always delighted to acknowledge
the debt. He kept his master s portrait continually
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 25
before his eyes, and when in later years my mother
desired to place his own picture above her writing-
table, he would only consent to have it thus in evidence
on condition that it was hung beneath his master s.
When in 1893 he visited Birmingham, on the occasion
of the opening of a new girls school on King Edward s
Foundation, he paid a public tribute to his great teacher s
memory. Part of what he then said may well be
quoted here :
When I desire to express my best and loftiest wishes for
the Foundation to which I owe the preparation of my life s
work, it is natural I should look back to my own master,
James Prince Lee superior, as I believe, among the great
masters of his time for the guidance of my thoughts. Some
things never grow old. His presence, his voice, his manner,
his expression have lost nothing of their vivid power in half
a century. I can recall, as if it were from a lesson of yester
day, the richness and force of the illustrations by which he
brought home to us a battle piece of Thucydides, with a
landscape of Virgil, or a sketch of Tacitus ; the eloquence
with which he discoursed on problems of life and thought
suggested by some favourite passages in Butler s Analogy ;
the depths which he opened to us in the inexhaustible fulness
of the Apostolic words ; the appeals which he made to our
highest instincts, revealing us to ourselves, in crises of our
school history or in the history of the nation. We might be
able to follow him or not, we might as we grew older agree
with particular opinions which he expressed or not ; but we
were stirred in our work, we felt a little more the claims of
duty, the pricelessness of opportunity, the meaning of life.
And when I reflect now on all that he did and suggested in
the light of my own long experience as a teacher, I seem to
be able to discern something of my master s secret, the
secret in due measure of every teacher s influence. He
claimed us from the first as his fellow-workers. He made us
feel that in all learning we must be active and not receptive
only. That he only learns, in any true human sense, who
26 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
thinks, even as he only teaches who learns. He encouraged
us to collect, to examine, to arrange facts which lay within
the range of our own reading for his use in dealing with some
larger problem. In this way we gained little by little a direct
acquaintance with the instruments and methods of criticism,
and came to know something of confident delight in using
them. There was, we rejoiced to discover, a little thing
which we could do, a service which we could render, in
offering which we could make towards the fulness of the
work on which we were engaged. This feeling was deepened
by his kingly independence. We had in those days for
the most part simple texts of the classics the editions
of Tauchnitz or Trubner, without note or comment. Every
difficult phrase was, therefore, a problem ; and grammars
and lexicons were the only helps at hand for the solution of
it. But we were trained to recognise the elements with
which we had to deal, and to trust great principles of inter
pretation. Such discipline could not fail to brace and
stimulate; and lest our zeal should flag, the few English
commentaries which existed were made to furnish terrible
warnings against the neglect of thoroughness and accuracy.
For "Mr. Lee" that was the simple title by which we
always thought of him to the last had an intense belief in
the exact force of language. A word, as he regarded it, had
its own peculiar history and its own precise message. A
structural form conveyed a definite idea. In translating we
were bound to see that every syllable gave its testimony. It
might be possible or not to transfer directly into English the
exact shade of meaning conveyed by the original text, but at
least we were required to take account of the minutest
differences in turns of expression, to seek some equivalent
for their force, and to weigh what was finally lost in our own
renderings. And, if I am to select one endowment which I
have found precious for the whole work of life beyond all
others, it would be the belief in words which I gained through
the severest discipline of verbal criticism. Belief in words
is the foundation of belief in thought and of belief in man.
Belief in words is the guide to the apprehension of the pro
phetic element in the works of genius. The deeper teachings
of poetry are not disposed of by the superficial question :
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 27
"Did the writer mean all that?" "No," we boldly answer,
" and yet he said it, because he saw the truth which he did
not, and perhaps at that time could not, consciously analyse."
But the strictest precision of scholarship was never allowed
by our master to degenerate into pedantry. Scholarship
was our training and I have not yet found any better but
he pressed every interest of art or science, of history or travel,
into its service. The welcome greeting after the holidays was
"Well, what have you read? What have you seen?" The
reward of a happy answer was to be commissioned to fetch
one precious volume or another from his library I can see
their places still in order to fix a thought by a new associa
tion. So we grew familiar with the look of famous books, and
there is, I believe, an elevating power even in such outward
acquaintanceship. Then came lectures on art and archaeo
logy and physics, which he enabled the senior boys to attend.
These showed us new regions, and stirred in us that generous
wonder which is the condition of the highest wisdom. I can
remember watching in the darkened theatre of the Philo
sophical Society for the first public exhibition of the electric
light in Birmingham. "The experiment may not succeed,"
Dr. Melson said " I cannot feel sure " ; and then followed
the blinding splendour which we are at length tempering to
use. I remember, too, a striking series of lectures on paint
ing by Haydon, and one sentence in them suggested a parable
which I often ponder. " Look," he said, pointing to a
beautiful chalk drawing of Dentatus by his pupil Leach, " it
has no outline. There is no outline in Nature." " There is
no outline in Nature " : is not this parable worth pondering ?
I lay stress on this wider, if most fragmentary, teaching,
because I believe it was essential to our master s view of his
work, and that it is still the most effective way of awakening
dormant powers. If our proper labour lay within a narrow
circle and is it not certain that the best disciplinary teaching
must lie within a narrow circle ? we could not, he held, labour
rightly till we knew the splendour of our whole heritage. For
him and so he would have it be for us the world was no blank,
no blot; it meant intensely and meant well. He looked around,
and he looked forward, nothing dissembling and nothing
doubting ; and he bade us look through every imperfection
28 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and every cloud to the truth and the light beyond. The
single word upon his tomb is, I think, unsurpassed as a con
fession of triumphant I would almost say proud faith:
SaATTto-et ("The trumpet shall sound"). My last lesson
forgive me if I speak of it here was the fullest revelation of
the master. I was staying with him for a day or two at
Mauldeth, a short time before his death. We were alone.
After dinner I turned the conversation from work at Man
chester to work at Birmingham. He was glad, I think, to
go back to the old days. He spoke with proud delight of
his favourite classical authors, as if they were still his familiar
companions. He poured out quotation after quotation as
we used to hear them at school, and dwelt on that finest
single line, as he said, in Latin literature, " Virtutem videant
intabescantque relicta." 1 Graver, sadder subjects followed:
memories of failures and disappointments. Then came a
long silence. It was growing dark. Suddenly he turned
to me and said, "Ah, Westcott, fear not, only believe." 2
In those four words no more was spoken there was a true
interpretation of life as the teacher saw it, and as he prepared
his scholars to see it : Work to be done, work to be done in
the face of formidable difficulties, work to be done in faith
on God. Such, in briefest outline, was my master.
The following are a few of the letters extant, written
by my father in his boyhood. The earliest was written
when he was thirteen years of age :
To MRS. WHITTARD
\jth October 1838.]
My dear Mrs. Whittard Before my mamma closes
this letter, I just write a few lines to express my great pleasure
upon receiving your letter ; but still you have not told what
1 May they see virtue and consume away for that they have forsaken it.
2 See p. 249.
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 29
was most important, viz. how you arrived at Bristol, and what
sort of journey you had, as the day was so unfavourable.
Thomas is very well, and "seems quite happy. He was
getting quite unhappy at your being so long without
writing, but he used to console himself by saying that he
supposed you were so much engaged. Give my love to L.,
J., and C., and to Mr. Whittard, and remember me kindly
to Emma. With love, I remain, my dear Mrs. Whittard, yours
very affectionately, BROOKE Foss WESTCOTT.
To Miss WHITTARD
CAMBRIDGE, 2&th July 1841.
Dear Louisa Thomas and I had a very pleasant walk on
Saturday, and arrived in Cambridge just before the coach.
We went to Thornbury Castle and were very much pleased
with it. It is a very large building, in the late perpendicular
style. It is in very good preservation, but was never finished.
The church is a fine building in the same style. Do not
forget your architecture, for the pleasure to be derived from
knowing the date and style of a building when you see it is
very great. Though any person would be pleased with such
a building as Thornbury Castle, yet one feels double delight
when acquainted with its beauties which arise from its
beautiful proportions and delicate execution.
We had a very pleasant day on Monday, when a large
party of us, including Mr. and Mrs. Rape, your papa and
uncle, went over Berkeley Castle, with which I was very much
pleased, and thence to Sharpness (or some such name) Point,
where we had our dinner. Your papa left us on Tuesday
morning. We went with him to the coach. Your uncle left
to-day.
Be sure and practise your drawing while I am away.
Draw what you like best. I was going to practise my music
at Thornbury, but when I touched one of the keys, it gave out
such a sound as would have frightened Mozart into fits, con
sequently I was disappointed.
You must write to me while I am here and tell me how
you all go on. Tom is waiting to take the letter. I remain,
your very affectionate friend, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
30 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To THOMAS MIDDLEMORE WHITTARD
$ist December [1841].
I trust that you have delivered all my messages in a
decorous manner worthy of their importance ; if not, repent
and make up for past negligence, and in addition wish every
one "a happy new year" on my account. Not forgetting
your own nose. Poor thing ! how is it ? Present my love
to it. Mine quite pines away since Jane maliciously broke its
bridge with your assistance and at your instigation. I shall
send Miss Roberts the full, true, and particular account of
the length, breadth, and thickness, external and internal
arrangements, of my apple-tart at some future period, together
with elevations, sections, and working drawings. ... If you
do not write to me directly, I ll the original MS. is here de
ficient, and I can think of nothing sufficiently horrible. By the
bye, this is rather a strange letter, but my thoughts are wool
gathering in the clouds in the city of " Nephelococcygia,"
which Aristophanes describes in the Aves, a play of 1800
lines, which I read through and annotated in four days !
So I will conclude poetically
My paper is expended,
My ink too is the same,
And as my pen ain t mended,
Why, I can t write my name.
N.B. I will write a sober letter next time, steady and
admonitory.
BIRMINGHAM, i^th January 1842.
My dear Thomas I could philosophise on the rapidity
with which the years pass round, seeing that I have now
numbered eighteen summers, aye, and as many winters
though, by the bye, the present one can hardly be called by
such a name if frost is to qualify the season. But a thought
has passed over my mind, which is that you dared to forget
when my " natalitia " are celebrated in due course, or rather
now have been ; but I will spite you, for the last birthday you
kept is the last of yours I shall see for many years, for next
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 31
time I shall be located at Exeter College, Oxon ; luxuriating
on the banks of the Isis, the dear classic stream which
meanders through Christ Church meadows. I should have
written you long since, but I knew not your direction, since
when your father left I fancied you were going on his
journey, or perhaps going to return to Cambridge, so that
I was in a state of dubious hesitation (a beautiful phrase !).
At one time my mind verged towards writing, and again
the fear of misdirection arose in my mind, till at length
"The latter quick upflew and kicked the beam." "A mag
nificent simile," quoth my amanuensis. Think you so ?
We had the old piano down at our house, and Mrs. P.
" favoured " us (the proper phrase, I think) with " Meet me in
the willow glen," which any one would gladly have done if
she would have in that case left off singing be the conse
quences what they would. Such a squall, such an accom
paniment was never heard since the world began. I do think
even my father was in the horrors. After that she offered to
play while we danced (for certainly no one asked her), and she
managed to spoil the quadrilles, till we begged her to desist,
and said she must be tired, for we were indeed. After
that we danced them valorously.
I hope you are in the enjoyment of every felicity. I have
dived very deeply into the mysteries of the classics, and have
actually read through all Sophocles, and am now engaged on
Herodotus. . . .
LUDLOW, i2th fidy 1842.
My dear Thomas You have heard, I have no doubt, of
my transmigration from Birmingham to Ludlow, contrary to
all my protestations in favour of mathematics (etc. etc.). The
reason was simply this, I had been in anything but good
health and wanted a change of some kind, and recked not
whether it was for better or worse, though certainly I rather
desired the former, and therefore embraced the opportunity
of coming to Ludlow with your papa. He drove his new
carriage for the first time, and as usual when one uses new
things it was wet. ... I will divide my letter in a scientific
manner i. Generally. 2. Particularly.
32 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
1. You agree with every one that London is a very fine
place, a world in epitome ; this I expected, but I consider
that we have gained a great triumph, because you are able
to find your road about without any vast difficulty.
2. This section is a larger one and must be subdivided,
(i) The people of London, I see, have made a great discovery
that Apollo was the inventor of the violin (he couldn t call
it fiddle), German flute, and pianoforte ; this is curious and
important, and doubtless great learning will be brought to
bear on this curious fact.
(2) It is a very queer thing that churches are destined to
be hideous buildings everywhere ; but apropos of them the
best in London are St. Dunstan s ; St. Mary Woolnoth ; St.
Mary-le-Bow, by Sir C. Wren; St. Marti n s-in-the-Fields (I
think was built by Gibbs, and is a beautiful building, though
it has been the origin of all the steeples straddling over
pediments); St. Luke s, Chelsea. These I can speak with
great certainty of, but as I am away from books and every
thing else, I will tax my memory no further.
3. A few words in conclusion, as speakers always say. I
am tired, I am earnest to go to bed as it is after 10 o clock,
and to quote the celebrated Kentucky legend, I cannot write
with my pen, I won t write with it, in fact, I never had one.
Remember me most kindly to your uncle. I am, yours
most sincerely, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To Miss WHITTARD
EDGBASTON, 31^ August 1844.
My dear Louey This is the third birthday on which I
have had the pleasure of offering you my congratulations on
what the preceding year had brought forth, and expressing
my prayers for your future success and happiness. Every
circumstance connected with your present birthday tends to
render it more full of interest than any of those which have
passed. You are aware that it will be the last for some
years at which I shall personally be present, though I trust
I may have reason still to offer up the same prayers for your
welfare, though at a distance. I once thought to have
i FAMILY AND BOYHOOD 33
always been with you at the anniversary of this day, but I
find that my probable engagements will render that quite
impossible ; nor do I fancy that this is a source of regret.
Many circumstances I really think render it desirable, strange
as it may seem ; for absence alone can test a friend s sincerity,
and we have had at present but little of such proof, though
I do not anticipate that it will other than confirm ours.
Another thing on which I can speak with unmixed pleasure
is the fact that the anniversary of your birthday happens on
a Sunday. It will put an end to those festivities so unseason
able in my eyes which usually usher in such a day. It is
to my view a day for repentance, a day for prayer and
humility, not for mirth, innocent though it be, or more
boisterous amusements, a day on which we may reflect on
our past conduct, weep over our past sins, and earnestly
resolve by God s gracious help to lead a new life. There is
still one other thing on which I wish to say a few words
the principles contained in the little books which I wish you
to keep in my remembrance are different to those in which
you have been as yet instructed. 1 They are in my view the
just exposition of that Book from which all denominations
endeavour to derive their arguments, and all who differ from
them must, I think, err more or less in proportion to their
difference. I request you to ponder them. I pray that in
reading them you may be guided by that Spirit Who alone
can enlighten us. And if such be the course you pursue, I
feel sure (may I use the expression ?) that you will be gathered
again to that Church which is the object of my devotion, in
which I trust to employ whatever talent nature may have given
me, whatever instruction and improvement my parents good
ness has enabled me to attain to. I could, my dear Louey,
write on this subject for ever; you know my feelings, and I
imagine that you can justly appreciate them. Still, should you
not see matters in the light I do, though perfect harmony of
feeling and affection can never exist, yet believe me that I shall
ever feel a sincere interest in your happiness and welfare, both
in this world and in the world to come. And ever esteem me
your most affectionate friend, B. F. WESTCOTT.
1 Miss Whittard had been brought up in a Wesleyan home.
VOL. I D
CHAPTER II
CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE
1844-1848
MY father went up to Cambridge in October 1844.
He arrived there in pouring rain, and with difficulty
discovered his lodgings, which were at No. 7 Jesus Lane.
From his windows he was able to overlook the gardens
of Sidney Sussex College, and, lover of nature as he
was, derived continual refreshment from the prospect.
He thus describes his arrival and first impressions of
Cambridge :
I can hardly tell you how funny I feel in my new habita
tion. I have as yet been quite a solitary no one of my
friends is yet come up and consequently I have been very
industrious ; and yet I can hardly say so, for my books, which
I sent in a case separately, are not yet come, and so I have
only a few to meditate on. My journey was not very pleasant,
for we rode about thirty miles in the rain by coach, and so
could see but little as we went along, though I do not know
that many beauties were lost. The country is very, very flat ;
though what I have seen of the neighbourhood of Cambridge
itself is much better than I had anticipated. The Colleges with
their gardens render it very pleasant.
When I got into Cambridge the rain was falling very heavily,
and when I had with considerable difficulty procured a porter,
34
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ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 35
I sallied forth to find Jesus Lane, and, having lost my road
several times, managed to reach it. Then to know Mr.
Porcher s house that was a great difficulty. However, I
asked, and was directed to a little ugly place, to get into
which you descended by two steps. When I inquired if that
was Mr. Porcher s, "Yes," was the reply; and when I spoke
about rooms " Oh, sit down a moment, and I will show them
you," said my landlady ; and by help of a wretched candle she
conducted me to a room more like a cellar than anything
else, badly furnished and dimly lighted, and told me that was
my keeping room. How I looked and stared ! And then I
grumbled, and said how the person who had engaged my
lodgings had deceived me. She then said there was probably
some mistake, as there was another Porcher in the street.
How my heart jumped for joy when I heard it ! Scarcely
apologising for giving such unnecessary trouble, off I went,
and found my real rooms, and they are very pleasant ones, so
that I was not very dissatisfied with my adventure. Yester
day I made my purchases, though I was shocked at the
amount I laid out in trifles nearly 10 and sallied to Hall
in cap and gown at 4 ; got my dinner, and much enjoyed it.
You cannot imagine what a splendid place Trinity is. Three
immense squares of buildings two Gothic and one Italian
it is magnificent ; and then the Hall itself is a very nice
old building with a fine roof of about James the First s reign
but more of this at some future time. I went again to
Chapel at 6.
His manner of life at Cambridge was very regular
and simple. He was an early riser, it being his rule
to be up at 5 A.M. After morning Chapel he took a
light breakfast, contriving to finish the meal by 8. He
complained that breakfast was sometimes a very long
meal and wasted much time. From 9 to 1 1 he attended
College lectures, and afterwards read in his own rooms
until 2, Then, if it was tolerably fine, he would go for
a walk, returning in time for dinner in Hall at about 4.
He attendedjChapel again at 6, and afterwards, to use his
36 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
own phrase, worked " for so long as the sleepy god will let
me." Sometimes, I fear, the " sleepy god " was too
permissive ; for on one occasion he entered a new rule
in his diary, directing himself to stop work at 1 2.
On Sundays he attended Chapel from 8 to 9.30 ; and
then read devotional literature, and wrote "one special
letter." After this he would go for a short walk until
his presence was required at Sunday School at 2.45.
Immediately after School came his 4 o clock dinner ;
after which ill-timed meal he would read until it was
time to go to Church ; after which he went to have tea
and serious conversation or Greek Testament reading
with one of his friends.
He preferred to attend Church rather than the
College Chapel on Sunday evenings, because he deemed
the Chapel service to partake too much of the nature of
a musical performance. Being very fond of music,
he seems to have felt happier in attending a church
where he was little likely to receive much artistic
gratification.
I have been unable to trace anywhere the faintest
indication of lunch ; but from later knowledge of his
habits am inclined to believe that he regaled himself
with a biscuit at mid-day.
His reading was remarkably wide. He was fearfully
anxious lest his studies should be " selfish" that is, too
much directed towards the attainment of University
honours and therefore made a point of working at
other subjects. He had derived from his father a great
zeal for botany and geology, and while an undergraduate
prepared a most elaborate botanical catalogue. He col
lected mosses and ferns. His regular " grinds," which
were often extended far beyond the customary limits,
were a continual botanical feast ; while his love of archi-
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 37
tecture invested every village church with interest. He
did not at this period of his life find time for making
many sketches, but he carefully noted the architectural
features of the buildings which he visited. The wide
range of his interests as an undergraduate is amply
evidenced by the contents of his " special " letters. He
enlightened his correspondent on a great number of
subjects connected with art and literature, writing long
letters on such topics as Spanish Dramatists, Italian
Painters, and German Literature.
Although my father s contemporaries at Cambridge
were an unusually brilliant set, he very decidedly held
his own among them. Amongst the men of his year
were C. B. Scott, 1 who was eventually bracketed first
with him in the Classical Tripos, J. E. B. Mayor, 2 J. LI.
Davies, 3 D. J. Vaughan, 4 A. Barry, 5 Howson, and the
Hon. E. H. Stanley. 6 Lord Alwyne Compton, the present
Bishop of Ely, and E. H. Bickersteth, the late Bishop
of Exeter, were also his contemporaries and associates.
The mathematicians of the year included also Isaac
Todhunter, who was Senior Wrangler, and Charles
Frederick Mackenzie, afterwards Missionary Bishop in
Central Africa.
His first University success was his election to the
Battie Scholarship in 1846. This success was more
than he had dared to hope, and he was proportionately
delighted. It was characteristic of him that, on the
evening of the day of the good news, he went for a
1 Late Headmaster of Westminster School.
2 Professor of Latin. Formerly University Librarian.
3 The well-known theologian, Vicar of Kirkby Lonsdale, and Chaplain
in Ordinary to the King.
4 Vicar of St. Martin s, Leicester, and Hon. Canon of Peterborough.
5 Canon of Windsor. Formerly Bishop of Sydney.
8 Late Earl of Derby. P ormerly Secretary of State for Foreign
Affairs.
38 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
walk with his friend Scott who perhaps was feeling
disappointed at his lack of success in the same ex
amination in order to calm his own joy, and console
and cheer another. He at once wrote to his father to
announce the glad tidings :
CAMBRIDGE, 3 P.M., Saturday [jfA March ].
My dear Father The Scholarships are just out.
Craven. Evans.
Battie. Westcott.
I can write no more. I am so excited. May God bless
all my future efforts to His service !
Excuse this very hasty note. I will write to-morrow.
Your most grateful and affectionate son,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
On the following day, according to his promise, he
again wrote to his father :
CAMBRIDGE,
2nd Sunday in Lent \%tk March}, 1846.
My dear Father Though some little time has now elapsed,
yet I fear that I shall hardly be able to write a note much
more understandable than the singular scrawl I sent yesterday ;
but as I could not sleep this morning, I have dressed, and
will try my best. You may indeed believe me that when the
University Marshal appeared in my room, just as I was
reading your note, yesterday afternoon, I was speechless. I
managed to find my last sovereign as the usual fee, and he
left me, and then I wrote you the note I sent, and soon after
I heard a wild noise at the bottom of my stairs, and in
tumbled Evans (who had just met the news), and Keary and
Gibson and Bickersteth, the tidings having reached them when
returning from a boat race. But to describe the scene which
followed is impossible : Evans was nearly wild, and we were
all extravagant, I am afraid. After this was over it was Hall
time, but I could not go to Hall, and only walked in to ask
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 39
Scott to wander a little with me in the " Backs " afterwards.
We did, and then I grew more calm, and on returning home
found a little heap of congratulatory notes 1 from all my friends,
which for your amusement I will enclose but preserve them,
please. It so happened that it was my turn to entertain our
little society, but of course no business was transacted, and we
spent a very pleasant evening, but you may easily imagine that
I was not inclined to find fault.
Having now sent you a long account of myself, there is
another far more pleasant topic which I must advert to. It
has once before been my very happy duty to express to you
on the occasion of a very trifling success my deep gratitude
for all you and my mother have done for me. If anything
could make me more deeply sensible of it, it is that peculiar
success which God has now been pleased to grant me ; but
do not tell me, as you then did, that you only did for me
what you ought, for I know, and have long felt, that at times
I have acted in a manner perfectly self-willed and ungrateful,
and shown myself unworthy of such kindness as I have
experienced from my dear parents. But however evil temper
for the moment swayed me, you will not suppose that my real
feelings could be so unnatural as not to be entirely sensible of
your great goodness ; and as I sincerely trust that now such a
change has been, by God s grace, wrought in my character,
that I shall not even appear to be unmindful of all you have
done, let me ask you to forgive me all that is past, and pray
for me that in the future I may be all that a son should be to
you ; and I will never cease to pray that every blessing may
reward you and my mother, and attend my sister here and
hereafter. If there is one thing in this examination I look on
at all with pleasure, it is that I believe I did not go into a paper
without first praying that I might consider it entirely in God s
hands; that however the result might be (not that I had any idea
of getting the Scholarship, but I hoped to do well), I might view
it entirely as His will and the best that could happen. And
so I have been free from all anxiety and evil emulation, and I
1 The only congratulatory note extant runs thus : " You are an ever
lasting trump. We are all mad with joy " followed by hastily written
signatures.
40 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
trust that this has been a lesson to me which I shall long
remember. On opening my Greek Testament, as soon after I
knew the result as I could read, almost the first words which
occurred to me, for I instinctively turned to that beautiful
Epistle of St. John, were i John ii. 17. How applicable the
verse was is very clear, nor do I think it was mere chance which
led me to do it. As I am now writing, the morning sun is
beginning to shine through my window so brightly and cheer
fully ; but I wish I were with you, only for a few minutes but
it is a vain wish. I will answer your note at the beginning of
the week, for I cannot do it now. I can do nothing but marvel
and feel thankful.
In the same year my father won Sir William
Browne s medal for a Greek Ode. During the year
1846 he kept a diary, wherein, as in his special letters,
he reveals his inmost thoughts and feelings. Much of
this diary is so intimate, that it cannot be fully pub
lished, but it so faithfully reveals the undergraduate
Westcott that a few selections are necessary to give a
true idea of the man.
is/ January. Communion in the morning. How shall I
account for a sudden and strange feeling with which I am
filled that I ought to retire to a monastery, or live in entire
seclusion ? Not that I believe the Romish creed but their
practice allures me. However, a life of general usefulness
and activity must be a greater probation if I have power given
me to overcome its temptations. And do thou, O Lord,
enable me to despise the honours and glory and fame of this
world in themselves, to seek Thy glory in every action, and
aid me in my desire to spread Thy truth, and embrace and
hold it fast myself, being preserved from all wild and danger
ous errors. For Jesus sake. Amen.
&th January. Is it not very possible that our social meet
ings may be much improved? At present they are quite
unchristian ; and they cannot be neutral any more than we
can. Why then should not every one endeavour as far as he
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 41
can to change their tone ? I wish to do it ; but how often
does my action fall short from vanity or carelessness ! Help
me, O Lord, and all who are dear to me, to act and talk as in
the presence of angels and of God. How different then will
our " conversation " be !
\^th January. Again I am angry to-day. My temper
seems almost to unfit me for forming any intimate acquaint
ance. It is so proud, so unyielding, so self-willed, and all my
care to watch over and check it seems ineffectual. But I
may perhaps rest too confidently on my own strength, pride
again prompting me. O Lord, correct me in this respect,
enable me by Thy strength to have due self-command, to quell
that pride which seems dominant in every action of mine, to
bear with the faults of others, and correct my own.
1 9/# January. I leave home again to-day for Cambridge,
and arrive after a very pleasant journey, in spite of the weather,
having been enabled to glance hastily at the National Gallery.
One cannot but regret the levity with which in many cases even
sacred subjects are treated-- by Rubens, for instance. But
what shall describe the expression of our Lord in Correggio s
" Ecce Homo " ? It is resignation gained only by a severe
internal conflict, the pain and trial of which (if we may so
speak ?) is still visible in the melancholy cast of countenance
yet prevailing.
$oth January. How very comforting are some of Keble s
hymns ! I owe more to that book almost than to any other
certainly that I have lately read.
\st February. In. the evening, walk out a little with V., 1
and go to St. Michael s, i Cor. xiii. A striking thought is
suggested, that the fact of our Lord never mentioning His
own hope or faith is a proof of His divinity.
tfh February. Our examination 2 finishes. O Lord, I
thank thee that during the whole time I have been able to
subdue all evil passions and envy and rivalry ; which was not
of my own power but of Thine infinite goodness.
1th February. In the evening our society reassembles and
transacts business. I did not think much at least I do not
recollect what I thought ; but how little we know and how
1 D. J. Vaughan. 2 University Scholarships.
42 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
much we pride ourselves on it ! I feel more and more con
scious of my ignorance, and seem to know much less than I
did some few years ago.
%th February. Work at St. Luke. If I am enabled
what a glorious employment for one s leisure hours it would
be to prepare a new edition of the New Testament. If it
please God, may I be allowed to do this, and enabled to do
it in a proper spirit. If my time could be more serviceably em
ployed, may I withdraw my own wishes and projects cheerfully.
igth February. Walk to Girton with S. 1 He gives me
the advice which I earnestly desire to follow. It cannot now
be my duty to examine into deep metaphysical points. . . .
Why should I be anxious to reject that which has been the
stay and comfort of so many ? And yet I fear that this is not
honest. . . . O Lord, these things are indeed too high for me
Who shall understand them ? But do thou by Thy Holy Spirit
guide me through all this storm of reason and speculation. . . .
Look on all dear to me and preserve them from doubt for ever.
2 %th February. In the evening our society meets. After,
I have a long walk with V. in our great court, with the brightly
shining stars above us, but gloomy, mysterious thoughts in my
own mind. But by conversation they are partly removed,
and I feel more and more confidence in my declaration of
yesterday. The proof of our religion is the religion itself.
6th March. Enjoy another pleasant and solitary Hall
time 2 as on Wednesday, and trust that I feel the advantages
to be derived from such a course.
<$th March. Even to-day I can hardly realise that such
success 3 has been given me. But I feel that it will bring its
trials with it, and I trust that I did not yield to a temptation
in going this evening to a supper party at Evans , 4 though I
had resolved not to go again to such a meeting. But after
thinking much, I did not imagine that it was wrong, for the
occasion was such that a repetition could never be.
1 C. B. Scott.
2 He appears to have regularly absented himself from Hall on the
Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent.
8 The Battie Scholarship, yth March.
4 Evans, his old schoolfellow, won the Craven Scholarship at the same
examination.
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 43
March. Celebrate my success by a quiet breakfast
with our Birmingham friends. Spend the evening, as I delight
to do on such days, in thinking on all the mercies I have
received.
6th April. My Greek Testament comes at last which I
trust may be my companion for many, many years to come.
May I not fail to " remember," and in all things to set in it my
greatest treasure, my surest comfort; and so may all my
friends.
i8M April. After Hall go to D. s, 1 and then make my
first essay on the river, and not a very successful one. Tea
with V., and we talk on various subjects the present temper
on religious things, the character of Luther, and the modern
Pantheisms. I feel very thankful that the examination 2 is all
over, and less anxious perhaps than I might have expected.
May this arise from a trust in God and not my carelessness
or indifference.
2$rd April. Elected Scholar of Trinity. Call on D. In
afternoon go on the river. Tea with V. Feel very thankful,
but perhaps too joyful.
$>th May. See Maurice s new lectures, with a preface on
Development written apparently with marvellous candour and
fairness, and free from all controversial bitterness. He makes
a remark which I have often written and said, that the danger
of our Church is from atheism, not Romanism. What a striking
picture is that he quotes from Newman of the present aspect
of the Roman Church as despised, rejected, persecuted in
public opinion.
2$rd May. In evening we have a full meeting and a
discussion on the provinces, and relative positions of Faith
and Reason. V. and S. maintain that Faith is part of Reason.
This I am by no means prepared to admit. Nor do I think
that reason can find out truth. She can assent to it, when
discovered. Nor am I sure that the " will " is not a separate
faculty distinct from Reason ; the passions are and why
may there not be a third faculty in man a spiritual essence ?
28/Vfc May. Sarcasm. Could an angel be sarcastic against
sin ? I maintain the contrary.
1 J. LI. Davies. a College Scholarships.
44 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
^th June. Read in Chapel for the first time with a very
small auditory. May this be to me the commencement of
much usefulness to the Church, if it so please God !
\$thjune. Mr. Lee s to dinner, to meet the Cambridge
men ; but am disappointed and rather cross. No conversa
tion worth remembering. Mr. Lee says little.
2ith June. Call on Mr. Lee: and hear that I have the
Greek Ode Medal. Again I seem in danger of conceit, from
which may I ever be preserved !
\2thjuly. To-day I begin Hebrew with a firm resolution,
if I be permitted to continue the study of it. May it aid me
in my great object, and help me more faithfully and effectually
to discharge whatever duties I may be called on to execute.
26th to $\st July. Bathe every day. Otherwise do not go
out. Read a little English. Hallam s Constitutional History
cold, unfeeling, impartial, truthful, rather inclined to exhibit
human nature without its passionate qualities ; to strip men s
actions of their enthusiasm, and view everything as the mere
mechanical actions of political beings.
$rd to %th August. Guizot s Revolution d 1 Angleterre, a
very delight after Carlyle s crabbed sentences and coarse
metaphors, and Hallam s heartless accuracy and sarcastic
narrative. Compare the reference to Laud in each. Guizot s
character seems perfect.
2$rd August. Walk with Ld. A. C. * Talk over the prospect
of our times Guizot, Hook s scheme of education. How
will the masters be selected? They must have opinions.
Why should the Church need assistance ? Where is that spirit
of self-denial and burning zeal ? S. to tea. The critic s life-
is it justifiable ? Our prospects may they be enlightened
by the Holy Spirit.
2 ^th October. Feel in very low spirits and unwell. In even
ing meet in V. s rooms. After much " foolish talk " (may I
not say so ?), we discuss some modern poets. Even Plato
would, I am sure, have admitted Keble.
2$th October. Walk with V. Is there not that in the
principles of the " Evangelical " school which must lead to the
exaltation of the individual minister, and does not that help to
1 Lord Alwyne Compton.
j> S
M
> >^
O J=
ii
o
w S
_
r
i
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 45
prove their unsoundness ? If preaching is the chief means of
grace, it must emanate not from the church, but from the
preacher, and besides placing him in a false position, it places
him in a fearfully dangerous one.
7th November. I begin to feel more strongly that I should
be preparing myself for the great object of my future life. I
am afraid my way of reading here is too selfish too much
devoted to the desire of gaming transitory honours. I think
that I ought now to accustom myself to speaking publicly,
and to devote all my leisure time to the study of the great
topics which are agitating our Christian world.
I4//& November. -It seems to me that great things may be
done by missionary exertion, and I am quite unable to deter
mine whether the active mental training we enjoy here may
not fit us well for such a duty. I must seek advice on this
great question. It never before occurred to me so forcibly.
22nd November. The question of Apostolical Succession
comes strikingly before me to-day. Never did the general
truth of the doctrine appear so clear. May I indeed be taught
by higher than human learning in so deep a mystery !
2gth November. V. s to tea. We talk on many things of
deepest import. On missionary labours in India, and how
far we should encourage the hope of joining in them. On pre
destination and providence, and how far such subjects are fit
for us to discuss.
2nd December. We are apt here to encourage the idea that
promotion and dignity are the chief things to be sought after.
May I ever be reminded that the object of our life is not
personal aggrandisement, but the good of one s neighbour,
and that all the advantages of education are talents to be em
ployed in this glorious work.
22nd December. Trinity Commemoration. Its 3ooth
anniversary. . . .
Chapel at 4. Commemoration service. Jeremie preaches
a history of the College and its effects on literature. . . .
Dinner at 5.30. B. 1 and I read grace. The speeches
very poor. Whewell peculiarly unfortunate (except in spirit).
Bishop of London makes a singular misapplication of Scrip-
1 A. Barry.
46 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
ture. Lord Hardwicke discusses naval architecture. Sedgwick
is inaudible to me. The American minister full of screams
and gesticulations. Macaulay has been anticipated by
Jeremie. Lord Fitzwilliam and Vice-Chancellor neat. Lord
Monteagle too long. And what, after all, was the scene?
One which we look forward to, and back upon, with deep
pleasure, but which, when present, is every way disagreeable.
Such meetings are attended by our best men ; but could not a
different character be given them ? Might they not become
more solemn in their form ? For the attempt I must admire
our Master. Would a pagan have been struck with awe and
reverence at such a meeting ? Would he have been affected
as by a meeting of early Christians ? May we then take part
in such festivities ?
2 $rd December. Now the term is over. How has it been
spent? I trust my intellectual profit has been sound and
extensive. I trust that my earnestness for higher objects has
not grown colder. My faith still is wavering. I cannot
determine how much we must believe ; how much, in fact, is
necessarily required of a member of the Church.
$\st December. I cannot, I would not try to conceal the
peculiar bent of my temper. I am fully sensible that it is not
social, that perhaps it is little suited to minister to others
happiness. I seem rather to desire to be actively engaged in
some mighty work. . . . Should I try to derive profit from
this temper ? or should I check it ? ...
The past year has been marked by many signal blessings
for which I could not have dared to hope ; and earnestly I
pray that I view them as I ought, and that they make me
more zealous and more humble in future, for my pride is
unsubdued, and still I am harassed by doubt and disbelief,
though I do not think that my ambition is as it once was.
Imploring the same gracious guidance for me and all I love
as I have enjoyed during the past year, let me close the record
of this year with deep gratitude for its unnumbered mercies.
Amen.
Westcott s most intimate friends during his career
as an undergraduate were J. Llewelyn Davies, C. B.
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 47
Scott, and David J. Vaughan. These four, together
with W. C. Bromhead, J. E. B. Mayor, and J. C. Wright,
were the original members of an essay-reading club,
which was started in May 1845, under the name of
"The Philological Society." At a later date the
society took the name of " Hermes." The society
met on Saturday evenings in one or other of the
members rooms, when a paper was read, and a dis
cussion, not infrequently somewhat discursive, ensued.
The following were the subjects of papers read by
my father : The Lydian Origin of the Etruscans ; The
Nominative Absolute ; The Roman Games of (or at)
Ball ; The so-called Aoristic Use of the Perfect in
Latin ; The Funeral Ceremonies of the Romans ; The
Eleatic School of Philosophy ; The Mythology of the
Homeric Poems ; The Theology of Aristotle ; Thera-
menes.
On two joyful occasions the ordinary business ot
the society at the weekly meeting was suspended
the first being 7th March 1846, when Westcott was
elected to the " Battie " Scholarship ; the second, 6th
March 1847, when Scott was elected to the "Pitt"
Scholarship. In 1847 A. A. Vansittart and J.
Simpson became members of the club. At times the
society s philosophic gravity relaxed, as witnesses the
following entry in the minute-book under date 8th May
1848: "Mr. Vaughan having retired to his rooms,
and Mr. Davies within himself, the rest of the society
revived the Indus trigonalis^ and kept it up for some
time with great hilarity." Presumably Westcott took
his share in this hilarious revival, though it did not
form part of the discussion on his paper concerning
Roman Games of (or at) Ball.
1 A Roman game of ball.
48 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
The last recorded meeting of the society took place
on I 5th May 1848. On that occasion the character of
Theramenes was discussed in Westcott s rooms. Before
separating for the evening the society chose the char
acter of Philopcemen as the " next topic of discussion."
So ends the minute-book. Whether the society
survived to discuss the character of Philopoemen or
not is not apparent. Probably not, for the four
faithful members of the club had now graduated.
There is an entry in the minute-book which indicates
that in March the end was near. Above the initials
B. F. W. occur these words : " Let me here offer my
heartfelt tribute to a society from which I have derived
great pleasure, and, I trust, the deepest good not
least under the feelings of to-day." The subject that
evening had been "The Condition of Women at Rome ";
but the discussion had wandered over a wide field,
and, in its latest stages, was concerned with a com
parison of Plato and Aristotle.
In 1847 my father won the Members Prize for Latin
Essay, and the Greek Ode Medal for the second time.
He had on this occasion the honour of reciting his
Greek Ode before Queen Victoria, and of receiving his
medal from the hand of Prince Albert, the newly-
installed Chancellor of the University. He narrates
his experiences of the great day in one of his "special"
letters :
I managed to get through on Tuesday far better than I
expected, and walked backwards from the Queen and Prince,
after receiving my medal from him, with tolerable facility.
We had a very nice place just below the royal party, so that
I saw as much of her as I chose. She seemed in a very
good temper, and could not but be extremely pleased at her
reception. At the conclusion of the performance of the
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 49
Installation Ode, the National Anthem was called for, and
every one, even the Prince, heartily joined in the chorus,
which terminated in a universal cheer, the whole effect being
as fine as anything I ever witnessed. The Queen bowed
several times, and then she left the room. I was greatly
pleased with the spectacle, and equally so with a horti
cultural fete in the afternoon which the Queen attended.
This was the sum of my gaiety. I went neither to the
concert nor to the breakfast. Our court has presented a
most animated scene for the last few days. A troop of Life
Guards have been on duty in it in their splendid uniforms,
and from time to time the royal carriages have been bowling
in and out \ while the grass was covered with ladies and
M.A. s intermixed with doctors in their scarlet robes, and
bishops, and generals in all kinds of uniform, and dukes and
princes. But though it has been very gay and beautiful, I
am extremely glad that it is over. I think you would have
enjoyed it, and I wish now I had not dissuaded my mother
from coming, but I must not tell her so. It would have
been impossible to get into the Senate House on Tuesday,
nearly a thousand ladies were disappointed. But everything
else far exceeded my anticipation, and was alone sufficient to
repay any one for coming up. When the Prince presented
the address to the Queen in our Hall, he had to retire back
ward from the Queen out of the room, which seemed to cause
her infinite amusement, for from time to time she laughed
heartily. He preserved his gravity with wonderful skill, and
she only " looked a little smile " when she said, in reply to
the address, that " she quite approved of the choice of the
Chancellor by the University." Her voice is clear enough,
but not strong. Have I sent enough gossip ?
My father devoted great pains to his work as a
Sunday School teacher. It tried him very much, and
he seems not to have been able to obtain much help
from others. On one occasion he attended a meeting
of the teachers of the Jesus Lane Sunday School ; but
his experience there was not happy, and he decided
that he would not go again. He writes of it :
VOL. I E
I
50 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
1 was extremely disappointed with our teachers meeting,
for although in theory the plan is very good, and novel too,
if I may judge from such small experience, it does not work
well. However, a large party of us met in the secretary s
rooms, and, as you may well imagine, we were a very motley
group, both in appearance and still more in pursuits and
standing. But this was perhaps an advantage. Well, after
some time the curate came, and after a short prayer we pro
ceeded, or rather should have done so, to consider the
simplest method of communicating the doctrine of the
Atonement to children, which subject had been previously
announced in a circular sent to each teacher. Several
observations of sufficient simplicity were made by different
persons present, but there was no earnestness, no life, no
spirit in the whole. They seemed as if they wished to say
something, but there was no feeling ; and all sorts of singular
objections which children might make were suggested, as if
a child s first duty were not simple-hearted obedience.
The following are extracts from the diary for
1847:-
ist January. Talk with <1> about my future course of life.
A schoolmaster or a clergyman ? I am fearful, if once I
embrace the former profession, I shall be again absorbed
in all the schemes of ambition and selfish distinction which
used continually to haunt me ; and yet I think the discipline
as well as the leisure which such a life affords would be
immensely useful in relation to my after duties, if my life and
health be spared.
%th January. Faraday s Light experiments ; but far, far
more interesting is that brief account of the London poor and
"ragged schools." What a prospect is there before us! I
cannot tell how best to view it how most efficiently to take
part in the duties it unfolds.
2 \th January. Sermons for the organist and choir. Such
collections should shame us from the necessity thereby ac
knowledged of having persons paid to perform our- own
duties at church.
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 51
2$th February. To-day I go to see a boat race. This
day last year I would not go, and I think I did well ; to-day
I do not fancy I did wrong. I did not feel any excitement
or any danger, while the change might do me much good.
\^th March. V. to tea. Keble Wordsworth Goethe.
Is not the first the true poet : the second a poet who felt
he had a mission to perform, but commenced from nature
instead of from revelation : the third, a sad example of
those who " though they might half heaven reveal, by idol
hymns profane the sacred, soul-enthralling strain " ?
i $th April. Walk with V. Education scheme. Colonies.
Why not the old principle of a religious connection between
the mother state and its settlements? How disgracefully
have we neglected to regard colonies as claimants of religious
guidance at our hands ; or as being anything more than a
device to remove to our antipodes troublesome paupers.
$oth April. After a very hard day s work, send in a Latin
Essay and Greek Ode. Am disappointed at not being able
to write for the Epigrams. Yet no doubt it is all for the
best.
2$rd May. I have another success to be thankful for.
How many I have already enjoyed ! May I feel more and
more the truth of the motto I would adopt Gal. v. 26. 1 I
have never experienced more pleasure than in reading Butler
again. I trust he has entirely dissipated my chief doubts.
The few which still remain may be removed by greater
earnestness and prayerfulness, I trust. May I be enabled
before I decide on entering the Church, to fully believe and
heartily conform to her teaching.
z^th June. Dr. Kloss at Town Hall. The most
glorious performance of the kind I ever heard. Bach s fugue.
BACH. A motet of Kloss . Splendidly conducted.
Such taste ; such feeling. We were all delighted. To-day I
hear of another success to be thankful for, the First Mem-
bers Prize, which will enable me to have many new books.
\st August. Form a plan to read some of Eusebius.
Finish Pol. ad Phil. 2 The day is oppressively warm. At
a Kev68o!-oi : Let us not be vainglorious.
2 The Epistle of St. Polycarp to the Philippians.
52 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
school I was almost tempted to despair after the two classes
were joined. I often doubt whether we should undertake
such duties when we can but partially fulfil them, yet I
believe we must persevere.
nth August. James i. I do not recollect noticing the
second verse ever before in the way I have. How sincerely do
I wish that I could "rejoice in temptation." I never read
an account of a miracle but I seem instinctively to feel its
improbability, and discover some want of evidence in the
account of it. The day is extremely warm.
$ist August. Hooker. V.S.D. Oh, the weakness of my
faith compared with that of others ! So wild, so sceptical am
I. I cannot yield. Lord, look on me teach me Thy truth,
and let me care for nothing else in evil report and good.
Let me uphold nothing as necessary, but only Thy truth.
1 2th September. Blunt s Reformation. In evening Col.
ii. with D. and S. Oprjo-Kcia TWV ayyeXwv, not as our version.
Can it be seraphic, i.e. mystic, worship ?
2$th November. What shall I say of Dr. Hampden? 1
I read the articles copied from his works by " Presbyter " (in
the Times), and in them find the development of the very
system which I have been endeavouring to frame for myself.
If he be condemned, what will become of me ? . . . To talk
of Arnold s heresy ! As if the New Testament were a book of
definitions ! . . .
26th November. To-day I feel singularly low-spirited.
How can I join our Church if Hampden and Arnold be
condemned? And yet I never can devote myself to any
thing else.
31 st December. This day, I think, is marked by a new
conception of the great truth. May I be enabled more and
more fully to realise it. Read The Princess hastily ; and I
1 Lord John Russell recommended Dr. Hampden for the vacant see of
Hereford. The Convocation of Oxford University had some years before,
on account of his supposed unsound doctrine, deprived Dr. Hampden,
being at the time Regius Professor of Divinity, of his share in the
nomination of select preachers. Great excitement was caused amongst
churchmen by the prospect of his elevation to the episcopate, and an
attempt was made to prosecute him for heresy. This action, however,
was vetoed by Bishop Wilberforce, and Bishop Hampden was eventually
consecrated at Lambeth.
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 53
think it was a fit and worthy pleasure to end the old year
with. There are in it passages, I think, of exceeding beauty.
Hampden is exculpated by the Bishop of Oxford, and this
trouble of mine is over.
In January 1848 my father was examined for the
Mathematical Tripos, and obtained the twenty-fourth
place among the Wranglers. In the following month
came the Classical Examination, in which he was
bracketed first in the first class with his friend Scott.
He subsequently obtained the second Chancellor s
Medal for Classics. The following are extracts from
his diary of 1 848 :
i st January. The new year will in a great measure decide
my future external life. Whatever it may be, I would rest
entirely contented may it only be such as will enable me
to be most serviceable to the Church, and such as will
tend most to the glory of God. . . . May every feeling of
mere human ambition be removed from me. May every study
and every work be conceived and carried on with a view to
that great end which is alone a worthy object of life.
a Kevo8ooi, aAA^Aovs TrpoKaAoiyxei/ot, aAA^Aois
Let this be my motto through the coming exam.,
through my whole life, for Jesus sake. Amen.
2nd January. S. to tea. Stanley s sermon on St. John,
which I extremely admire, and yet it is called " heresy " at
Oxford.
At school to-day I am almost reduced to despair, and
what shall we say of public schools in general? Should
not some provision be made for teaching the social duties
the general relations of society ?
2 1 st January. The exam. 2 concludes, and on the whole I
think I have not done myself justice. Yet I will not com
plain.
2%th January. The Tripos lists come out, and I am in
1 Let us not be vainglorious, provoking one another, envying one another.
2 Mathematical Tripos.
54 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
a very fair position, twenty-fourth. From the result I feel
sure I might easily have been eight or ten places higher. But
now I am more than satisfied and so will all at home be.
\\th February. What a wretched account of the Welsh
schools. Again and again it arouses my pity. And what
can we do ?
An anecdote in Guardian of a little girl buying a farthing s
worth of pease for her day s meal. As many as forty in one
morning at one shop in St. George s East, London. And
we Who shall right the evils of society ?
2\st to 26th February. The Classical Exam. I do very
little except in the Senate House. Read William Tell, which
I admire excessively, and Eothen, which is clever, but very
affected.
\$th March. Read Coleridge s Confessions^ which I think
exceedingly sensible, sometimes eloquent; though they do
not nearly enter into many of the real difficulties. If I may
say so, he believes antecedently too much for an investigator.
i<)th March. Let me freely confess to myself that I am
now feeling anxious about the result of the exam. And why ?
Is it mere pride ? . . . Chiefly I think it is for the great interest
my father takes. I know he has hitherto lived for me, and
if I can make him some return . . . Yet in all things, in
good success and ill success, may I ever live wholly for God s
service and my fellows good. Amen.
2Qth March. Another day is over and my anxiety is past.
Everything is as my fondest wish would have it. To be
bracketed with one with whom I have been most intimate
for my whole College course with whom I have read, and
with whom I have talked on the highest things, who was my
fellow University Scholar and my fellow -teacher is all I
could wish.
2\st to 2$th March. Am busily engaged with pupils.
With the Mathematical Tripos of 1848 my father s
career as an undergraduate terminated, as he took his
degree immediately afterwards, on 2pth January. But
until he had passed through the severer ordeal of the
Classical Tripos he was unable to enter on any other
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 55
manner of life than that appropriate to one still in statu
pupillari.
The following interesting description of him as an
undergraduate is derived from one who was his intimate
friend in his early Cambridge days :
He had the intensity which was always noticed in him, rather
feminine than robust, ready at any moment to lighten into
vivid looks and utterance. He held his own way with some
conscious purpose, I believe, of not becoming a disciple of
any one. . . . There seemed to be no subject of which he
did not learn something, and his whole soul was in his
studies. Profoundly reverent, affectionate, single-minded,
enthusiastic, blameless, he seemed to those who knew him
an example of the purest Christian goodness. Cambridge
can hardly have had at any time a more ideal young student. 1
It was my father s custom while at Cambridge to write
at least one letter a week to Miss Whittard, the lady who
afterwards became his wife. A selection from these
letters is given. One letter to his mother is inserted
in this series, according to its date.
EDGBASTON, 31^ August 1845.
My dear Louey 2 It would not, I am sure, be necessary for
me to write a long note to tell you that I do now at this particular
time wish you a continuance of every happiness you must
already be aware of it without my telling you at all. And
how to ensure such happiness, " the Book " which I beg you
to receive in remembrance of me will fully teach you, and
that most pure and scriptural companion with which it is
accompanied will explain more clearly than I can the most
1 Quoted from paper by Rev. J. Llewelyn Davies in Cambridge Review
of 1 7th October 1901.
2 From 1846 onwards my father always called my mother Mary. To
others she continued to be Louey. See p. 8.
56 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
admirable methods of carrying out into practice those rules
which can alone be given us by inspiration. If I were to
recommend any one text for your particular study, as con
taining the whole summary of a Christian s life, it would be the
first of those beautiful sentences read in our Communion Service
" Let your light so shine before men, that they may see
your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."
What can be so great an honour to poor, frail, sinful mortals
as to add to the extent of God s glory ? What human dis
tinction can compare with this ? What title, what reward
shall be found equal to that of being permitted % to see our
Father s kingdom advanced by our means ? May such, my
dear Louey, be your happiness and mine a happiness which
fadeth not, which cloyeth not, which only grows brighter and
brighter till that day when we " shall see God as he is " when
we shall enjoy such eternal blessedness as no man knoweth.
And let us think of that most gracious promise we have to-day
heard " Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his right-
ness ; and all (other) things shall be added unto you." That
you may realise this ever forms a part of my prayers and I
believe I may claim a like interest in yours. May God ever
bless you, my dear Louey. Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
CHEAPSIDE, LONDON, igth October [1845].
After writing quite a volume of Travels to my father, my
dear Louey, we will endeavour to begin a note for you, which
must be finished after I have heard what " remarks " you
have to make. With London generally I have been highly
delighted, and to-day I have been nowhere but where I
could go again with perfect satisfaction. In St. Paul s, where
luckily I was left to my own contemplations, my feelings
were far different from what Coleridge says, that in entering
into a "Classical Church" he feels "proud he is a man."
For my own part, I never felt more insignificant, more humble,
and shall I say it, Louey ? more perplexed. I could not
help kneeling down, when the deep tones of the organ came
swelling along, and praying that I might be rightly directed
in my belief; for how many are the difficulties I experience
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 57
no one can tell. At least I trust I am teachable, and do
sincerely desire to find the truth, but I cannot acquiesce in
that which I hope is true without I am also convinced. But
we shall say too much soon. Do not, my dear Louey, mistake
me it is no unwillingness to believe makes me speak thus,
no dislike for our glorious system of Christianity, but a sense
of duty to inquire into the grounds of my faith as to the
perfection of its practice. I do not for one moment doubt
but, well, we will say no more. Louey, do you join your
prayers with mine, and then we shall doubtless both be
directed rightly, one way or other. ,
You will, I think, be pleased to hear (how sorry I am that
even I must use the word pleased on such an occasion) that
Mr. Newman has formally joined the Romish Communion. ;
When a man of his learning and practical piety and long
experience does such a thing, may not one young, ignorant,
and inexperienced doubt ? These times are dreadful times
one need "watch and pray." Such, then, as these were my
thoughts in St. Paul s. In Westminster they were still
stronger, and I, even I, the cold and unmovable, could have
shed tears, aye, of bitterness, of helplessness -and yet why
should we ? "I am with you always " is a promise we too
often forget. We are too apt not to consider the threaten-
ings or promises of religion as personal things if we did how
different would our conduct be. Try to do so, my Louey,
and aid me in doing so too, and then we shall be really
happy. A Dieu.
Wednesday Evening.
To go on with the note I began yesterday. I have seen
in to-day s paper a list of the five gentlemen who "went
over " with Mr. Newman, but do not at all know their names.
It is said that several more Oxford men intend to follow their
example. Let Oxford boast of its divinity we are not quite
so bad as this at Cambridge. But really, my dear Louey, I
shall soon fill you with all my own gloomy scepticism and doubts,
and we will therefore not say more about this at present ; for
rarely does a conversation or letter pass without something
of the kind, and I cannot but be aware that I am meddling
58 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
with what you do not feel as I do nor can I hardly wish you
should ; but, doubting apart, I trust you do.
To-day I had a very pleasant trip to Greenwich. The
day was beautiful, and the ships quite amazed me such
perfect forests of masts the sight was indeed wondrous ;
and what a beautiful building is the hospital. The only
place I went into was the Painted Hall, which contains some
very good pictures and a few relics, and then hastened back
to visit the British Museum (and now I must tell you that I
have had the good fortune to recover my pocket-book from
the railway station, so that the essay will still be able to be
finished, and I have had no drawback on my pleasure here).
By the aid of my map I found my way to Great Russell
Street admirably, and went directly through every other room
to the Etruscan one, which is the very last of all, and the
collection at present is in not very good order nor very
extensive. Here I feasted my eyes for some two hours, and
then returned to the Elgin room, only pausing for a moment
at the Rosetta stone. I need not repeat the praises that
every one bestows on Phidias works, but the capital of one
of the pillars of the Parthenon did indeed surprise me;
altogether such works do make us think of the small, rocky,
unfruitful land of Attica, with its restless, quarrelsome,
conceited people, with almost boundless admiration. After
looking at this room and a few Lydian marbles, it was 4
o clock, and so I had to leave. I did not see Dr. Carlisle.
He has not been to the Museum for some time, having been,
unfortunately for me, very ill ; but I intend calling at
Somerset House to-morrow. After leaving the Museum I
went to Hungerford Bridge, got into a steam-boat, and paid
id. to be taken to London Bridge; and then I bent my steps
to King Street, and have not been out again this evening for
I feel rather tired, and as for finding society to amuse
oneself withal, it is quite a comfort to escape to one s
bedroom.
CAMBRIDGE, i6th November 1845.
My dear Mother If I recollect rightly this is your birth
day, and let me wish you many, many happy returns of it.
I should very much like just to be with you all for an hour or
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 59
two in place of sending a note, and will hope to enjoy that
pleasure before very long ; but even as it is, I have great
cause to be very happy, enjoying such blessings as I do, and
health besides. I can assure you that every night and
morning, and continually, I think of all that you and my father
have done for me, and as the only return I can make, pray
that I may not disappoint your hopes, and that every other
joy may be yours. When I see the position in which I have
been placed entirely by your kindness, it does certainly seem
marvellous, and I am sure I shall never fail to appreciate it,
for to repay it would be quite impossible, though you always
tell me that if I do well it will be sufficient. And this is my
only object and encouragement, for as far as my own desires
are concerned, I do not at all care about honours of any
kind, or any distinction, and I should be as well pleased to
go to New Zealand or India as a missionary as anything else ;
but then when I know the pleasure it would give my father
and you, and feel all the advantages which I enjoy, I know
it could never be my duty not to avail myself of them to the
utmost, for to say, as some do, that university competition is
inconsistent with the Christian religion is positively wicked,
and I hope that I may never try to screen any carelessness
or idleness by such an excuse. Having had all the privileges
I have, it is both my greatest pleasure and most bounden
duty to try to turn them to a good use, and by God s blessing
I trust I may be enabled to do so, and at the same time to
recollect that the great opportunities I have involve equally
great responsibilities. That every blessing may rest on you
and my father, who have done and still do so much for me,
more than reasonably I could expect, is the prayer of your
most affectionate son, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
You must give my love to my sister, and tell her I hope
she is a good girl, and getting on very well at school.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
1st February, 12.15 A.M., 1846.
You will say, my dearest Mary, that I am beginning a
note at a very singular hour, as St. Mary s is just striking the
60 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
quarter after midnight, and I wish I could for an hour talk,
or rather read, or still better think with you. I am lonely.
/, who delight in solitude, am lonely, for I have been to
rather a noisy party this evening, quite against my will, and
was truly alone all the time and now I am lonelier. But I
intend reading some Keble, which has been a great delight
to me during the whole week, and perhaps that will now be
better than filling you with all my dark, dark, dark gloomi
ness. Good-night, my Mary shall I say ? May God bless
you ever. Continue ever to pray that I may be directed
rightly as I feel sure you do. Yours, 12.
Sunday Morning^ 10.30.
I found my remedy last night, my dearest Mary, quite
effectual. I found a new Hymn (which I mean I had previ
ously overlooked), and highly was I consoled by it (3rd Sunday
after Trinity, p. 152), which I read several times, and then an
old favourite (6th Sunday after Epiphany, above all, the
seventh verse and the last four lines), and then I went to bed
quite calm and at rest. And to-day the sun is shining into
my room so gloriously as I am writing, that it is almost impos
sible not to be in good spirits ; and still sometimes I feel that
I am discontented, which surely is in me ungrateful beyond
measure, who enjoy far more blessings than I ever could
reasonably have hoped for.
Do you know, that I am afraid I shall be utterly unable in
any case to come home at Easter ? But what is much better,
that I am almost inclined now to spend my long vacation at
home again; but that will very much depend on circumstances,
and I hardly like to look forward to a time so distant. But
however it is, my dearest Mary, it is for the best, is it not ?
Our examination will be over on Wednesday. I have not
done so well as I ought to have done nor nearly but yet I
do not reproach myself, for I trust it is not my own fault, and
I can perfectly allow that it is all for the best however it is.
I think I grow less anxious continually, at any rate I try to,
and what is far better I pray to be enabled to value nothing
here too highly ; and if we do that, how contented shall we
ever be, how peaceful, how happy, in every case. How very
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 61
selfish a note-writer I am all is about myself nearly, but I have
little else to tell you. What do you do with your class at the
Sunday School, or have you not a fixed class yet ? I feel
very much interested in your success there, and I pray for
you too. The duty is a most important one, and a respon
sible one, and if we ask God s blessing on it, a holy and
a blessed one indeed ; I regret nothing more than the many
times when I engaged in it relying only on my own will and
power, and I need not tell you that then I always failed, and
saw I failed. And never did I experience a greater delight
than at an earnest, serious look of attention and anxiety,
which often rewarded me for all my pains and disappoint
ments.
May God bless you ever, my dearest Mary, guide you,
strengthen you, and support you. And believe me that in all
sincerity I am, your most affectionate BROOKE.
CAMBRIDGE, ist Sunday in Lent, 1846.
You ask me, my dearest Mary, how you can keep the Fast
of Lent. I do not think I can give you more advice than I
did in my last note. You will, I have no doubt, have the
opportunity of denying yourself often, and embrace it ; and if
you have any time for retirement and meditation, do not
devote it to more trifling purposes. But I am sure I need
not tell you this, for you will feel it yourself, and doubtless
have already practised it. Do not think I write too gravely,
for I feel very grave at present, and yet it is something I
would fain trust of a holy gravity, and it may perhaps seem
rather strange to you, as you do not see me, and I am grow
ing quite altered I am sure I am. Nay, do not misinterpret
me I mean I am growing more serious, and duller if you
please, even than I used to be. But you will not mind it ?
Nor think my notes less affectionate for being more grave ?
But you ask me, my dearest Mary, what I think your chief
fault. I think you must know that which induces you most
frequently into temptation, which most frequently presents
itself under alluring forms. I do not fancy our chiefest enemy
is an open one, but one lurking in the very depths of our
hearts, and who, so far from being obvious to others, too
62 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
often escapes our own notice by assuming a false form. Weak
ness and indecision often elude us under the form of humility ;
and superstition appears as faith ; bold assurance as hopeful
confidence ; a want of personal interest in religious truth as an
entire reliance on God s help. You will, I think, see what I
mean, and can you find any traces of any similar temper in
yourself? Do you not, or shall I say, have you not, often
yielded what you knew to be right, or at least were not satis
fied to be wrong, merely because others, because I have wished
you to, and would you not do the same now ? Are you con
scious of any individual and personal sense of Christian truth ?
Do you think for yourself, and not merely receive all that is
told you ? Do you search the Scriptures to see if these things
be so ? Do you trust in God s Holy Spirit to direct your
search ? And when you have found this precious pearl, are
you ready to " sell all you have to possess it " ; to give up
every tie as worthless compared with that " blessed hope of
eternal life " ? If I were to write to you what seemed other
than the spirit of the New Testament, would you correct me ?
And would you value my affection less than truth ? I know
the test, when practically put, is a difficult one, my dearest
Mary, but still I am sure we too often deceive ourselves ; our
manner of life at present is too mixed, too undecided in its
character, to afford us any means of trying our personal con
victions, and I am afraid this is an age which would not pro
duce many martyrs. Let us try to avoid this error, let us
aid each other in our search after truth, but let truth be our
highest and holiest object, and may our sense of it be displayed
in a life of active and earnest piety of self-denial and
patience ; and as far as God may enable us, distinguished by
all those characteristics so admirably displayed in the glorious
Epistle for the day. Do they not strike you the passage in
Chapel seemed quite new to me, and I have read it through
since and what shall we say ? Certainly the Apostle says
"in fastings," nor does he limit it; indeed, I fear for our self-
complacent, comfortable religionists (to use rather an un
common word) ; but I do think we go on the principle of
selecting all we like, and explaining away all the rest, and
then fancying that we obey the whole will of God. Do you
not think so ?
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 63
But really, my dearest Mary, I would not have sent you
such a note had you not asked me, and you must not think
anything I have said unkind or harsh, nothing could be
further from my wish.
I do not know the tract of Bishop Wilson s you mention,
but he is a very sincere and " earnest " man, and all he does is
truly Christian, so I should certainly recommend you to read
his book. The one I mentioned was translated by Dr. Pusey,
but I have not yet received it. What a very beautiful verse
the last of Keble s hymn for to-day is, have you noticed it ?
I have no news to tell you, but no doubt is entertained as
to Evans getting the Craven not even a whisper, but I
expect it will be out this week. And now I must finish.
Good-bye, and believe me ever, my dearest Mary, your most
affectionate BROOKE.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
2nd Sunday in Lent, 1846.
How I wish I were with you all at Birmingham, my dearest
Mary, just to enjoy your all receiving such an unexpected
piece of news ; but it is vain, and I can even now hardly think
that the melancholy Brooke (and very often the ill-tempered
and obstinate too) is " University Scholar " in his second
year. But I am afraid I am rather rejoicing in an unseemly
manner, and we will say good-bye to such words. Your note,
which came to me just as the tidings of my success, in a great
degree removes my objections against your last, and I am
pleased that you have yourself corrected what seemed to me
wrong. But what am I writing about ? I am not even yet
quite settled ; it is wondrous it is too much. But you will
perfectly appreciate my feelings, I am sure, do you not, Mary ?
In reading my Wilson last night, many passages struck me far
more than ever before in the first part, and almost the first
verse I read in my Greek Testament and I am happy to say
<that was the first thing I did after hearing the news was
i John ii. 1 7. Pray that its important truth may be deeply
impressed on my mind. I am very, very glad, my dearest
Mary, that I feel more humble than ever. I am perfectly
sure that this is entirely God s mercy and goodness, and no
64 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
prize of my own, and perhaps He has given it me to try the
sincerity of those vows and resolutions I have lately made.
Pray for me, my dearest Mary, as I am sure you do. This
Lent I trust will make me quite a new being. I feel growing
more " earnest " and my thoughts are frequently more holy,
and I am trying to view everything as a means to increase
God s glory ; and let this be our united aim by mutually
aiding each other the path will be easier, and dark though it
be, and like some dreary mountain pass at first, it gradually
widens and fair flowers deck it flowers of charity and faith
and love ; and secret streams water it streams of God s mercy
and grace ; and heaven is its final close. " So let us pass
through things temporal as finally not to lose the things
eternal." Temporal things will not be less beautiful because
we view them but as types of heavenly ones. They will not
indeed, my dearest Mary. Surely a glorious sun shining on a
landscape, though it deepens the shadows, yet heightens the
whole beauty ; and if our " Sun of Righteousness " shine over
all our acts, though He will make sin appear deeper, and
even amusements appear gloomy, how bright will all acts of
piety appear ! I think the metaphor is true. I cannot write
more, but you will pray for your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
CAMBRIDGE, iqtk, i$tk March.
Though, my dearest Mary, it is much after midnight, I
feel that I should like to write a few lines to you, as your
note to-day suggested many ideas. You say you think of
me so often that you may be wrong, and if you do not think
of me as a weak, a sinful, a rebellious creature who is ever in
need of your prayers you do, my dearest Mary ; but if you
so call me to mind, it can never be too frequently. Try thus
to think try to view me as one earnestly trying with yourself
to find the truth ; but do not, Mary, you must not indeed, set
me up as your example, which I never had any idea of your
doing when I wrote my last note. My own faults are both
very many and very grievous, do not then copy my practice,
but rather compare what I say with Holy Scripture, and
if it agrees with it, then follow it, and may God s blessing
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 65
rest on us both. You cannot need my prayers more than
I need yours, and that very childlike faith you refer to is that
which of all things is the most needful, and to me the most
difficult to attain to. I was thinking to-day when reading
my Avrillon, in which I have put my marker " Remember me,"
that if you have any book you continually use for which you
would make a marker " Remember " and one for me also, we
might, each time this word comes before our eyes, offer a
prayer more particularly each for the other. You know how
fond I am of any such token, and you will not be surprised
at it ; what do you think ? I have a little Greek Testament
for my book, and a " Remember " would exactly suit it. But
I will finish my note to-morrow. May Holy Angels be with
you to-night.
Sunday Morning.
Before I go to play some chants I will finish my note, and
I have yet much to say. You say you want me to advise you
in many things, Mary. In what ? Can you not at all tell
me now, for I am afraid that if I come home at Easter it will
not be for about six weeks yet not till the second Sunday
after Easter, when if all be well, I trust we may read that
fine description of Balaam together (in Keble). If I am so
fortunate as to get a Scholarship, I will try every means to
come down for a few days, for as it will be Term time I shall
be unable to do more ; but we are sadly anticipating, and
many, many things may intervene.
I think in the Sunday School there are regular lessons
of Scripture to read, are there not, according to Mr. Dalton s
method ? If so, you know I should be inclined to lay much
more stress on them than on The Teacher Taught, a book you
know which is far from being a favourite of mine, for the
instruction given seems first to be of a kind which can neither
be intelligible or interesting. But the plan of breaking up each
verse into a number of questions is very good, and if after
reading any passage you will try to do so, the result is very
satisfactory, for it not only keeps the children s attention
alive, but ensures their understanding the passage ; and you
can hardly imagine at present how very little they do under
stand, and what is worse, how little they try to remove their
VOL. I F
66 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
ignorance , and these difficulties can only be removed by our
most earnest endeavours made in the fullest reliance on God s
help. And if this is our plan, we cannot nay, we dare not
doubt our final success, though much at first may seem to
stand in our way to try our zeal and sincerity. All the times
I have felt that I did not do what I might have done at the
Sunday School were when I set about the duty in a spirit
of pride and self-sufficiency an error from which I think you
will be comparatively free. But I shall be very pleased to
hear how you progress from time to time, as you well know
what very great importance I attach to our schools ; and were
I ever to have a Parish under my care, I think they would
engage almost half my attention. But you will think I am
now indeed looking forward beyond all bounds, and so to
scatter all these castles, pleasing as they are think you not
so, Marie ? I must bid you not suffer yourself for a moment
to think that your prayers will not be heard : the very
consciousness that we do not deserve our wishes to be
granted is one of the chief grounds on which God has
promised to listen to us; and have not your prayers often
been answered heretofore? I will, with all the zeal my
worldly heart will suffer me, join ever in your prayers ; and,
as I often have, I again ask the same from you in return, for
by God s blessing I already, I feel, owe much to you. Let
us then together place all our hopes on high, and think not
of any blessings we have here but as means of promoting
truth and piety, and often as trials of our own sincerity ; and
so I trust we shall never fall, or if we do shall again by God s
help be established for His glory.
Give my love to Mid, and tell him I will write probably
to-morrow, but my correspondence has lately been somewhat
extensive. May God bless you, my dearest Mary. Yours
most affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
CAMBRIDGE, Easter Sunday^ 1846.
You cannot imagine, my dearest Mary, what a beautiful
day it is, just such as an Easter Sunday should be, after all
the gloom and cloudy skies of the last few weeks ; and I am
sure I shall be tempted to wander in our grounds, which are
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 67
just beginning to put on their fresh green array and smile
in their spring beauty. But if we begin to digress on such
subjects, I shall have to tell you of a glorious walk I had
on Good Friday after Church ; it was the first fine day we had,
and with all the associations connected with it, it only wanted
not a solitary evening in my rooms to make it quite delightful.
But even then I put out the candles and looked, as I have
often done, at the bright moon shining over Sidney, and
thought of home and all with it, and how much I should like
to surprise you all ; and I do not recollect any goblin visions
of Scholarships disturbing my reveries.
You have not told me for a long time how your Sunday
School is going on. I trust you have not deserted it nay,
I do not even fancy such a thing. I think I shall soon be
able to join in one at Cambridge, but even as it is my Sundays
are now very pleasantly spent, and I trust not altogether
unprofitably. I think I shall next term begin Hebrew again
in earnest, and then again I wish to make myself a perfect
master of the Greek Testament (and I never " forget "
can you say so?). But if we continue our present plan,
perhaps both objects are compatible. Are you reading the
i Corinthians now? and which chapter? Do you not, my
dearest Marie, feel something very holy in to-day? I can
hardly account for my own feelings, for all seems so cheerful
round me, and I am happy I, the gloomy and stern and
morose and discontented it must be this glorious day, our
highest holy-day. I read this morning some beautiful remarks,
one or two of which I would fain copy. They were on
"patience" (Luke xxi. 16-19). Speaking of its freedom from
the dangers which beset other virtues, Avrillon says : "In
zeal we fear that evil temper and anger which often lurk
beneath ; in prayer we fear distraction ; in fasting, hypocrisy;
in mortification, self-will ; in alms, vanity ; in charity, regard
of man s respect ; but we fear none of these misfortunes in
the exercise of patience." Is it not very, very true ? But
this patience must not be that which sustains the world in
furthering their plans of pride and ambition, but one which
teaches us to bear our ills, because we have considered them
all and much more ; we must have none of the old stoic
self-complacency left, nor consider ourselves as sufferers,
68 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
though innocent nay, rather as being treated with boundless
compassion and mercy, in that so many blessings are still
left us. Shall we not try, my dearest Mary, to ever more
and more cultivate this heavenly virtue, for it is a truly
Christian one, and seek to draw healthful lessons from all our
troubles ? You must, Mary, pray for me continually during
this week. I feel how frequently my thoughts will be dis
tracted, how often I shall perhaps feel anger and impatience,
how prone I shall be to forget that which should be my chief
stay and comfort. Pray then earnestly for me, Mary, and
may our joint prayers be blessed, as I am sure they have
been heretofore.
It is now almost time to prepare for our Communion
Service, and I must therefore finish.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
yd Sunday after Easter > $rd May 1846.
Notwithstanding Mr. Michelet s severe reproof, I shall
write to you, my dearest Mary, before our Communion, which I
find is to-day, and think of you during it, and finish my note
afterwards ; and surely if there is any time when our spiritual
union should be closer than usual it is then, and you know
that no season can inspire more solemn or more holy thoughts.
My journey yesterday was unproductive of any conversation
or anything else remarkable. I again admired St. Paul s and
looked at the Thames from London Bridge with as much
wonder as ever. It is a glorious sight, and enough to make
any one humble, for in a small village, or a small society, we
are continually apt to judge of our actual merit by our com
parative importance, and then we grow "proud."
It seemed, Mary, very strange to me sitting in our new
seats this morning, for till now I have always used the same ;
but I do not think I shall grow " proud," and you know " I
am not." ... I intend reading the Waddington to-day, and
shall begin Hebrew in earnest, and trust to carry it on with
vigour, so much for our arrangements. And you must
tell me how far you have gone with the Gospel of St. John,
and I will send you some notes when next I write. Sunday
afternoon our Master in Chapel gave us a sermon on Rom.
ii CAMBRIDGE ; UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 69
viii. 28 (a verse you once mentioned to me), and of course
he was eloquent and very forcible, in both particulars very
different from some we hear who only preach on patience
on Herbert s principle. This afternoon I have heard the
Bishop of Chester preach, but the church was so crowded and
his manner so peculiar that I am afraid I did not at all
appreciate his sermon. But I have something better to tell
you. Keble has published another work, and I am going to
look through it this evening. He calls it Lyra Innocentium :
Thoughts in Verse on Christian Children, their Ways and their
Privileges, which is rather a quaint title, but the book seems
very beautiful as far as I have seen it, but I will tell you
more when next I write.
TRINITY COLLEGE, qth June 1846.
It was well, my dearest Mary, that I began my note
yesterday, or you would have been disappointed, for to-day I
went out for a short ramble, and we walked and walked till
we were far, far from Cambridge and over the hills at a
pretty village, Babraham, of which I think I have told you
before. It is still prettier now than when I saw it, for the
trees are all out and the churchyard joins a beautiful lawn
belonging to a very fine house built in the true Elizabethan
style, and a finer situation for a quiet country village church
could hardly be imagined. After that we went to the rail
way station about two miles further, and found a train had
left about five minutes before (being punctual !), and con
sequently we had to wait some time, and so we strolled to
the village, and found it was the " wake," with all the display
of such sweetmeats as village children cannot resist, and above
all a large swing ; but having ourselves resisted all these
temptations, we looked at the church, returned to the station,
and started for Cambridge. I was very much amused on our
way there, for there was quite a large party in the carriage,
including evidently all between grandpapa and grandchild of
every kind, who were just returning home after some long
absence. But quite the favourite of the party was a little
baby, and when they reached home, at a little village not far
from Cambridge, the anxiety with which they anticipated who
70 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
would meet them, and the intense delight with which they
found all they wanted, the great bustle there was to find all
the luggage, the numerous commissions every one gave every
one else, and above all the boisterous caresses received by the
smallest of the party, were highly amusing; and after this
was over, and the train left them behind in all their pleasure,
nothing more occurred but that I am rather tired.
What will you say, Mary, to my writing a note with such a
long description in it at any rate, it is a change. I should
have been very much delighted, you know, to have been at
home with you on Monday, but I can say all I should say quite
as well perhaps in writing, and if I can I will write you such
a note as I should on Sunday. Do not doubt, my dearest Mary,
that I shall think of and pray for you ; it is a very important
time, and I have often told you how much I regret the
manner in which I spent the day of my Confirmation. I went
to the cricket field afterwards, but I could not play I really
could not ; but I had no one to guide me, no friend I mean,
and I sometimes quite shudder when I think how near I was
to all that I now hold so dreadful and so ruinous. I think
my visit to Bristol quite changed the direction of my thoughts,
and since that time I think we have mutually derived much
good, by God s blessing, from each other. May we long, long do
so, and may He still guide and bless us, who has done so for so
long a time ! Believe me ever, your most affectionate 17.
TRINITY COLLEGE, Sthjune 1846.
My dearest Mary In some respects I am sorry that I
cannot be with you on a day so really important with regard
to your whole future life, and see as at this time the full
completion of my earnest prayers for some years past in your
admission to our Holy Church ; to converse together under
such circumstances might call forth many new resolutions or
remind us of many old ones which we have forgotten, it might
open fresh springs of charity and zeal, or uncover those which
have been choked by worldly cares and anxieties ; and yet
even at such a season some interruptions might arise, while
now in my College solitude I can think of you, and pray for
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 71
you from time to time without anything disturbing my thoughts
or prayers.
I wished you, Mary, to have some slight token by which
you might know that this day has not been unnoticed by me
(which, as I told you, by a singular coincidence is that of my
first public service in the Church 1 ), and you have, I think, often
admired the little treatise of Taylor, which you will perhaps
keep in memory of your Confirmation.
May your chief blessing, my dearest Mary, be a "holy
life " of earnest faith and hope and charity, -and may we both
in all our actions be guided by His Holy Spirit "Whom to
know is life eternal." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
qth Sunday after Trinity , 1846.
I am now, my dearest Mary, for the first time settled
within the College walls, and though my rooms are rather too
luxuriously furnished, yet they partake of quite a sombre
character; the old-fashioned windows and the magnificent
court and chapel, which are just opposite, give them a far more
suitable air than my old habitation in Jesus Lane, and in
addition to all this they are quite sheltered from the sun,
which now is a very great comfort. My father will have told
you how near I was to having a very stern lecture in consequence
of my non-appearance, but it is all over now. This morning I
have been reading a review of Ignatius letters, which quite
adopts the contrary view to that I have so often expressed, and
so I must read them again ; and another on Mr. Newman s
work, which certainly represents his character not as that of
an earnest and simple inquirer after truth, as I had always
endeavoured to view him, but rather as one who first formed
a theory of his own, and then tried to mould everything after
his pattern ; and yet the writer always carefully preserves that
Christian charity which controversy makes us so often forget.
I intend this afternoon to go on with your questions and send
you an abstract of Beveridge s remarks on the Fifteenth Article.
1 He read the lessons in Chapel on this day.
72 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Let me, my dearest Mary, again impress upon you the necessity
of reading all you read, particularly our chapters, very carefully ;
be sure that every sentence presents to your mind a distinct
meaning, and such that you can represent clearly in other
terms ; and recall yet more frequently all the steps of any
argument you may have heard. The task is difficult and
irksome, but one of incalculable benefit Because you will
thus be able not only to form distinct views yourself, but
teach them to others, which is one of our highest privileges ;
and it is of but little use if we keep our talent wrapped up and
buried, when there are the crowds of poor, ignorant, resource-
less, perishing creatures around us. We tried, Mary, you
remember, to consider what would be the occupation of a
minister in a small parish, and what must it be in such an
one as the generality are? what a field do they open to
labour and patience and self-denial ; what a trial are they to
the mind and body one for which we (shall I say so ?) cannot
too soon arm ourselves now while there is yet time, before
the storm comes, which many a " roaring still and deep "
forebodes. Let us, my dearest Mary, earnestly trust in
and heartily pray for the divine assistance in preparing for
a work so great, so responsible, as that of teaching, comforting,
and directing our dark and wandering poor, who know no
hope, no heaven, no God. It is a serious task, a dangerous
task, and yet a very glorious one. Shall we not then by the
aid of the Holy Spirit embrace it, in faithful dependence on His
assistance. Think often on this, Mary, and very steadfastly,
and picture to yourself all that must be denied in such a
course, and be not as Andrew Steinmetz, shocked by the
vision of the Cross.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2nd September 1846.
Your note, my dearest Mary, suggested many very curious
thoughts. I was sorry to hear you had again been unwell,
and wondered why you should be in bad spirits, and with
my usual facility of imagination, conjured up strange fancies
and fictions.
Yesterday I went to Ely and had a glorious day. The
sky was almost cloudless from morning till night, and the
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 73
Cathedral, though as a whole full of unsightliness and
defects, yet contains more beautiful details than I have ever
seen. Some of the monuments and all the chapels are
splendid, and the whole is undergoing a gradual but perfect
repair ; and much it needed it, for there is not, I fancy, a single
statue remaining uninjured, unless it be perhaps a Bishop (!)
whose image represents him comfortably dozing on a sofa (!)
or some such. Really, contrasted with the good and holy-
looking men round them, our big-wigged, fat-faced ecclesiastics
make one very angry. You know, of course, all about the
different styles, etc., of the building. The lantern is made of
wood, and that disappointed me, for they have painted it
stone colour, which is a trick only worthy of modern times.
I trust you were not disappointed at not receiving a note, but
I was not at home in time to write one satisfactorily, and
even now, as you may see, I am in a great hurry. But if, as
I hope, I shall see you soon it will not matter. Do not write
to-morrow (Friday); wait till Saturday. You may perhaps
guess my reason. However, I cannot say more.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
tyh Sunday after Trinity, 1846.
As I generally do before writing my note to you, my dearest
Mary, I have been reading Keble for the day, and though I do
not recollect noticing the hymn particularly before, it now
seems to me one of the most beautiful ; and especially does
it apply to those feelings which I have so often described
to you : that general sorrow and despair which we feel when
we look at the state of things around us and try to picture
the results which soon must burst upon our Church and
country. "Yet in fallen Israel are there hearts and eyes,"
etc., and so let us still hope and work, and faithfully trust in
our Gospel promises, though our success may seem hopeless
and our labour lost, and though we may desire rather to leave
the world, "the few poor sheep," in search of our own peace
and retirement, than tend them in dangers and troubles.
There is very much, Mary, to console us in such a course,
even if our efforts seem to fail. I never regretted having done
all that I could at our Sunday school, even when it seemed
74 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
in vain, but I have often felt sorrow when inattention or
carelessness had made me inattentive and careless too, and I
am very glad that you feel the same " earnestness " in behalf
of our Church schools as I do myself. They are now of the
greatest importance, and probably will soon be of still more,
for you may perhaps have seen some notice of Dr. Hook s
pamphlet on National Education (which subject will soon be
discussed in Parliament). He proposes as the only practi
cable method of State education the establishment of schools
for secular instruction only, at the same time requiring certifi
cates for the attendance of each child at a Sunday school ;
and a glorious scheme it seems to me, for then we shall hear
no more of children leaving us to go to the Socinian schools
" because they teach writing on Sunday," as I have heard
more than once ; and having been regularly taught during the
week, they will be more fitted to receive instruction in that
which is the end of all learning, on Sunday. This may seem
a little digression, but you will, I know, Mary, view it as I do,
as a digression on that which is one of the most important
instruments we can employ, and marvellous does it seem that
so few can be found willing to take part in guiding it.
Somewhere there must be a fault. I cannot imagine a School
(if they had been blessed with such a thing) lacking teachers
in early times. Is it then the largeness of our congregations,
the security of the work, the inactivity of our ministers, which
has made the change ? Or is it not rather that while we
profess religion as a people, we lose all sense of its individual
value ? We are never called upon to give up our faith, and
so never calculate its value. We see no young Cyril braving
the fire in his earnest and simple hope, and so never ask
ourselves if we would do likewise. All goes smoothly with us,
calmly enough and pleasantly ; but if a day of trial comes
and such, Mary, I feel are coming, days of fiery and heavy
trial what will become of our nominal church of ourselves ?
Let us try to look thus at things : will our " house " abide the
raging of the storm and waves ? Let us pray more and more
earnestly that, whether this be in our day or not, such may
be our faith and strength that all things may be "vile" when
compared with this " hope which is in us." Let me quote
you another passage from Cromwell s letters, and we
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 75
can and shall, I trust, apply it to ourselves. "Remind
poor Betty (his daughter) of the Lord s great mercy ; oh,
desire her not only to seek the Lord in her necessity, but in
deed and truth to turn to the Lord and to keep close to
Him ; and to take heed of a departing heart, and of being
covered with worldly vanities and worldly company, which I
doubt she is too subject to. I earnestly and frequently
pray for her, and for him (her husband). Truly they are
dear to me, very dear, and I am in fear lest Satan should
deceive them, knowing how weak our hearts are, and how
subtile the adversary is, and what way the deceitfulness of
our hearts and the vain world make for his temptations.
The Lord give them truth of heart to Him. Let them seek
Him in truth and they shall find Him." (April 1651.)
You cannot think, my dearest Mary, how often I wish I
was now working patiently and earnestly in some obscure
village. It is, I know, wrong to do so, but still here I have
so much time for thinking, and get so deeply perplexed at
times, that I fear there can be no remedy for me but
active exertion in our great cause. New doubts and old,
superstition and rationalism, all trouble me in turn. I
cannot feel that simplicity and singleness of faith we all
should. I feel too much interested in the mere passing
events of College life ; pride influences me, and mere emu
lation, though I would that all my studies should be for no
other end than to give me more ability to do God s work.
Pray for me, Mary, that this may be mine. My Hebrew still
goes on slowly and steadily. Tell me when you write if you
would like any more notes and on what. May the Holy
Spirit ever guide us in all truth. Believe me ever, my dearest
Mary, your most affectionate BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Thank you for the mignonette ; I have no flowers. I
have sketched the view from my windows ; and so we can
exchange.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
20th Sunday after Trinity , 1846.
1 was quite delighted, my dearest Mary, with your resolutions
and plans/ and feel quite sure that to follow them out will
76 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
give you the highest satisfaction. And really one may be
readily surprised at the great things which may be effected by
steadiness of purpose and economy of time but I will not
grow sententious. This week I have been following out the
intention of which I told you, and it seems to give me much
more satisfaction than when I could hear the Chapel bell ring
ing while I was preparing for my evening s work quite regard
less of its invitation ; but I have made one slight alteration ;
which is that on Sunday evenings, when we have a full service
and anthem and numbers of curious spectators, I shall go to
hear Prof. Scholefield, whom I have lately entirely deserted, and
so I shall enjoy that which here one is apt to want, the sober
earnestness of a parish service. I sincerely hope that I may
remain firm in these resolutions. " Remember." You make
me, Mary, quite ashamed of my writing ; I thought it was bad,
but when my intention to express " M Neile " is interpreted
"Write," I am indeed in despair. He came to our Chapel
last night, and certainly is a nice-looking man, though I might
perhaps say more of a gentleman than a clergyman you will
understand my meaning ; but I have been thinking and talking
to-day on the relative tendencies of the two great Schools in
the Church, that of Oxford and the one called Evangelical,
the former laying more stress on prayer and the public
services and ordinances of the Church, the latter on preaching ;
and it seems quite impossible that the " preacher " should not
absorb the regard personally which should be devoted to the
whole body of the Church and its supreme Head. He comes
forward to instruct by his own eloquence and not as the mere
exhibitor of the Church s treasures, and must needs usurp the
affection which is due to the Head do you not think so ?
And does it not seem clearly to teach us that in public we are
to try to hide ourselves in the Church, seeking only her glory
and not our own reputation ; to strive with more earnestness to
exhibit her beauties than to attract attention to ourselves ; to
attribute all which is good in us to our spiritual mother, and
assign our failings not to her neglect but to human weakness :
yet more to recollect our high calling as members of a glorious
society whose aim is the highest in the world, and whose fame
is clouded (not sullied) by our sins, for whose extension we
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 77
ought to labour, whose truths we ought to propagate, whose
glory to cherish as our own ? Do you not continually feel, my
dearest Marie, that this must have been the spirit of the first
confessors of our faith, and the spirit which alone can save us
in the coming storm ? Those early Christians should be our
continual pattern :
On these look long and well,
Cleansing thy sight by prayer and faith,
And thou shalt know what secret spell
Preserves them in their living death.
That hymn of Keble s contains very, very much. You have
read it again and again now, I am sure, and understand it.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
22nd Sunday after Trinity [1846].
What will you say, my dearest Mary, if Wheatley is again
wanting? but I will try if I can send it you and yet I
want to do some Hebrew. However, you will not complain
much, I am sure. As for Mr. Oldham s meetings, I think
they are not good in their tendency, and nothing can be so
bad as making them the vehicle of controversy. What an
exquisitely beautiful verse is that of Keble s, "And yearns
not her parental heart," etc. We seem now to have lost all
sense of pity in bitterness and ill-feeling. Should not our
arm against Rome be prayer and not speeches ; the efforts of
our inmost heart, and not the displays of secular reason?
Are we anywhere taught to hope to convince men by mere
argument ? Does St. Paul allude to this as the means of his
success ? I cannot myself reconcile the spirit of controversy
and that of Christian faith. No two things seem more
opposed, and earnestly I pray that we may be kept from its
influence. Many of our noblest spirits have become gradually
Absorbed in its stream, and from earnest, active ministers
turned to be shrewd, conceited debaters. We should be
able, no doubt, to give answer of the faith that is in us ; we
should examine accurately the grounds of our own belief,
and in proportion to our conviction would be our zeal for
;8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
our neighbour, and our prayers for his conscientious com
munion with the Church. We are told that a " fervent
prayer availeth much," but is it anywhere said that worldly
wisdom convinceth ? Do not these considerations make us
more and more anxious to live and act as Christians, without
meddling into matters of controversy, such as have so often
made shipwreck of men s faith ? How much do they teach
us the value of retirement and contemplation ! How they
warn us to " go into a desert place and rest awhile " ! I must
tell you of a scheme a friend was proposing for the purpose
of rendering our ministers more efficient and if you knew
his character and standing it would seem more weighty, it
was that after taking their degrees here men should go to
a kind of college of candidates for Holy Orders in some large
town, and there spend two or three years in study and
meditation, in visiting the poor and sick, in learning the
feelings and habits, the wants and wishes, of the mass of the
people with whom they would have to do afterwards. I do
not know when I was more delighted with any idea, and I
hope to see it carried into effect at some time. What do
you think of it? So many now, immediately after leaving
the literary and gay circles of university life, with great zeal,
no doubt, go into some obscure village or large town, and
find themselves totally lost among a set of men whose
manners and feelings are to them utterly strange and un
known. They offend by intended kindness and misdirected
sympathy ; they are unacquainted with many springs of evil
and good, and are unable to discharge many duties which
otherwise they might. ... Do you not understand the
meaning of Theological " Development " ? It is briefly this,
that in an early time some doctrine is proposed in a simple
or obscure form, or even but darkly hinted at, which in
succeeding ages, as the wants of men s minds grow, grows
with them in fact, that Christianity is always progressive in
its principles and doctrines. . . . What do you think of the
" services for the 5th of November " ? You know, of course,
that they were not proposed by any ecclesiastical authority.
Would you draw any inference from that ?
But I must finish now. I have to write home, and have
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 79
just written to a friend who is seriously ill. " Remember."
Ever, my dearest Mary, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
P.S. Do you know when my mother s birthday is? I
always forget. Can you tell me anything I can give her?
Do help me.
TRINITY COLLEGE, Advent Sunday, 1846.
My dearest Mary I am sure you will envy me when I
tell you I have been reading this morning the companion to
the Christian Year, Lyra Innocentium, and I am more
fully convinced than ever that Keble has found the truest
and noblest end of poetry to calm and cheer and soothe
and train the mind by the simple teaching of nature, and
not to rouse and ruffle and excite it by "dream intense of
earthly passion." His images, being chiefly drawn from
children, are even more tender and touching in this new
book than in his former. The same spirit of devotion to
the Church, her doctrines and her discipline, inspires it ; the
same earnestness and devotion warms every hymn ; while the
same charity and Christian love brightens and adorns them.
Still, I could wish that he had lingered less around the
mysterious bounds of faith s darkest visions superstition in
him I dare not count them. Such solemn thoughts and
deep feelings as they create may perhaps excite prejudice or
distrust in minds less truly harmonised than his to every
heavenly note. But I could not now spare a line. They all
will, I am sure, teach me some holy lessons. He dwells
frequently on that glorious idea we have so often tried
to realise of "the Communion of Saints." In one beautiful
hymn he cheers an elder sister bereft of her little charge :
What henceforth if, by Heaven s decree,
She leave thee not alone,
But in her turn prove guide to thee
In paths to Angels known ?
There is much more joyful hope which I would copy for
you, did I not trust that we shall soon read the lines together.
8o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
We will not further anticipate our pleasure. If we are
permitted, we may next Christmas draw fresh comfort and
zeal from our ancient source.
... I am one chapter behind you in the Epistle, but
to-day I will read two. I shall lay the error to your account,
but it was a slight one in two months. We shall soon
have finished the New Testament again. I am continually
thankful that the plan occurred to us. Every such memorial
of our highest duties, amid the distraction of daily business,
is invaluable, and I feel more and more to desire to view
life as a thing in earnest. We are too apt to talk on religious
matters but on the surface, and to neglect the personal
meaning of all we say; and indeed such seems to be the
natural result of controversy and discussion : " light without
love " a darker vision than infidelity. Let us, my dearest
Mary, think often on such things think on the angel bands
around us, and listen to their heavenly voices :
Then speed we on our willing way,
And He our way will bless.
Ever your most affectionate BROOKE.
ASHBY-DE-LA-ZOUCH,
2nd Sunday after Epiphany , 1847.
My dearest Mary As I fancy that we shall go out
to-morrow, I will begin my note now without a longer preface.
Yesterday we had a splendid walk to the monastery, 1 going
the same road as you went in summer ; but now all the trees
and hedges are covered with a delicate white frost, and the
* cra ggy rocks seemed gigantic in the mist, and all the country
looked more lovely and wild and un-English than I have
ever before seen it. We went into the chapel, but I cannot
say that I was so much pleased with it as before, and the
reason was that I did not hear the solemn chant of those
unearthly voices which seem clearly to speak of watchings
and fastings, and habits of endurance and self-control which
1 Carmelite settlement at Grace Dieu,
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 81
would be invaluable if society could reap their fruits ; as it
was, the excessive finery and meanness of the ornaments
seemed ill to suit the spiritual worship which we are told
should mark the true church. After this we went round the
cloisters and into the Refectory, but I felt less than ever to
admire their selfish life. After leaving the monastery we
shaped our course to a little oratory which we discovered on
the summit of a neighbouring hill, and by a little scrambling
we reached it. Fortunately we found the door open. It is
very small, with one kneeling-place ; and behind a screen
was a " Pie ta " the size of life (i.e. a Virgin and dead Christ).
The sculpture was painted, and such a group in such a place
and at such a time was deeply impressive. I could not help
thinking on the fallen grandeur of the Romish Church, on
her zeal even in error, on her earnestness and self-devotion,
which we might, with nobler views and a purer end, strive to
imitate. Had I been alone I could have knelt there for
hours. On leaving, we followed a path across beautiful rocks
fringed by firs loaded with hoar-frost, and, passing by many
a little deepening glen, came to the road, above which stood
a large crucifix. I wish it had been a cross. I wish
earnestly we had not suffered superstition to have brought
that infamy on the emblem of our religion which persecution
never could affix to it. But I am afraid the wish is vain.
I thought I had spoken to you of the fearful distress in
Ireland (and in parts of Scotland too). I am sure you will
feel as I do. I have very little money to spare, but if there
is any collection I wish you would give five shillings for me,
and I will pay you when I return ; and let us not only think
of the temporal wants of our unfortunate sister isle, but also
of its spiritual degradation, which is, I am sure, closely
connected with its present miseries. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, qth February 1847.
My dearest Mary As I have a little leisure time now,
I will begin to fulfil my part of our agreement in endeavour
ing to sketch for you an outline of the history of painting ;
and firstly of the Italian schools, which claim our especial
notice at once from their early origin and unrivalled ex-
VOL. I G
82 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
cellence. Painting indeed seems the native growth of the
South, where the sunny landscape not only shines gloriously
itself, but invites men to share in its joyousness. We shall
have to observe how climate influences the progress of the
Art, and the marked character of the Dutch and German
schools will at once occur to you. However this may be, if
Cimabue was the father of painting, Raphael was its prince,
and the sublime creations of Michael Angelo seem like
guardian spirits to defend his throne. In Italy the first and
noblest efforts of the art, as such, were produced ; not that
I would for a moment wish to defend the treatment which
sacred subjects received too often in her schools, or to
maintain that there is not a far nobler object to pursue than
external beauty. But we must be careful not to attribute
too much to individual exertion in the revival of painting.
We are always too apt to lose sight of the onward advance
of men s minds in contemplating the triumphs of some
favourite hero. The gushing torrent will rouse us, while the
still deep stream may roll by unnoticed. Now every history
tells us that Cimabue (born at Florence 1240; died about
1302) was the "father of modern painting." A partial
countryman gave him the title, and none have ventured to
impugn it. But what was the condition of the Italian
people ? The songs of the Troubadours were still echoed
abroad. Her nobles had fought in the Holy Land, and
while they ridiculed the effeminacy of Asia, had learnt to
emulate its luxury. The disorders of the Eastern empire
had led many artists to leave Byzantium and seek a refuge
in the West. Dante was born, we know (at Florence also),
in 1265; and Petrarch, the contemporary of our own
Chaucer, was about thirty years later. Does not this chain
of facts already teach us that men were growing more zealous
in the search after "the beautiful"? For painting must
either accompany poetry or even precede it. So it was in
Greece. So it would have been in England if the muni
ficence of our first Charles had not been checked by political
commotions. Rubens, you know, was painting Whitehall
while Milton was writing L Allegro, and probably dreaming
over the story of King Arthur. Cimabue then, so far from
being the origin of Italian art, was rather the offspring of the
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 83
search after it. He employed the skill of his Byzantine
masters to gratify a spirit which he had not formed, but
followed. He was unable to throw off the conventionalities
of the Eastern schools. His dark-faced Madonnas display
their origin, and when looking at their simple claims we may
wonder now how a whole city could wait in eager expecta
tion for a gaze at the finished picture, and bear it with
triumphal pomp to its destined position. Yet such was the
scene at Florence when Cimabue painted there 600 years
ago. Few of his works are left. Oil-painting, of course,
was not known till about 1440, and all works were either
executed in fresco (i.e. wet cement) or in "distemper" (i.e.
on board, with colours tempered with the white of egg), so
that there were few cabinet pictures, and Art still remained,
what she ever should be, the handmaid of Religion. Of
Cimabue s contemporaries none deserve especial notice. We
will speak of his pupil Giotto next week. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, iztk Ap-il [1847].
I have scarcely time, my dearest Mary, to send a line as
I promised. You may fancy me again hermit-like surrounded
by my books. The day was very fine, and yet there was a
shower, as I prophesied, and I wandered round Peterborough
Cathedral for an hour. There is a very nice burial-ground
by it with yews and fir trees, which give the whole building
a very solemn aspect from the North. But how I wish you
could see Ely from the railroad. The view is the finest for
outline of any building I ever saw. I must try to sketch it
some day. Short as my note is, I must say good-bye. God
bless you, my dearest Mary. "Remember." Ever your
most affectionate BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
P. S. I will send an old note to make up for this. It
is, I think, an ingenious experiment. 12.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 26th May 1847.
. . . Our examination begins on Monday and lasts a
whole week, but then it is the last of the kind I shall under
go. ... How would my English books cry out if they could !
84 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Indeed, I think they would let me have no sleep at all, and I
am afraid very few save the driest mathematics would be
silent. Aristotle himself might with reason murmur, and if
he could complain, think of the flood of indignation Plato
would pour forth, and the cold sarcasms of Tacitus, and all
the other angry taunts of every one I ought to read and
can t. But they must wait, and I hope after this exam,
is over to set to work at them again. There are very
beautiful things in Mozart s Masses, but if they are to be
viewed as Communion services, are not you glad that our
Church never adopted anything similar? I even feel that
an anthem in Chapel degenerates too much into an amuse
ment, and that we quite forget the solemnity of the service ;
so much so that I rarely go when there is one. ... I wish
you could for an hour or two see our " Backs " now, or even
my view of Sidney Gardens. A large horse-chestnut covered
with blossom is my central object, and if that be beautiful,
only fancy what our great chestnut walk at Trinity is.
Particularly when contrasted with the delicate green foliage
and dark trunks of the lime trees. Singularly enough, just at
the end of the avenue is seen in the distance a little village
spire, which some one observed is a proper Fellow s
prospect: "a long road with a church at the end of it."
It is rather sad that such an end should be contemplated in
such a way. I had almost forgotten to tell you that I have a
Latin Declamation Prize. As you have already congratulated
me by mistake, I will dispense with it this time.
Let me hear better tidings next time you write. Play
before that glorious air of Beethoven s, or "In Manus Tuas,"
or the Larghetto out of " his " First Symphony, or Haydn s,
and then I am sure you will need no other inspiration.
Perhaps of all just now I should choose the one I have set
to Heber s "Thou art gone." I shall very much like to hear
that again with all your new improvements.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
Sunday after Ascension Day, 1847.
My dearest Mary I fancied that I should have been
obliged to alter the form of my notes, and send you news in
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 85
this one, for on Thursday night a fire broke out in Neville s
Court, which is the most precious part of our College, con
taining the library. As it is nearly all panelled with oak,
considerable apprehension was felt that it would be entirely
destroyed. I happened to be in at the time, and certainly
the appearance was very alarming ; but as engines were soon
on the spot, and there was no lack either of water or men to
work, we succeeded in putting the flames out entirely in
about an hour and a half. My arms are very stiff still, for I
was on the side that passed up full buckets to the engine,
and not being used to work of that kind, I feel its effects a
little. However, I was very glad I could do anything. The
damage is very trifling, nothing more than the roof of part of
the building is injured ; and the College has issued a very nice
notice thanking the University and town for their assistance,
and at the same time adding that " but for the blessing of
Almighty God great damage must have been done." The
wind was very still, and it rained part of the time. You may
picture to yourself the scene : long rows of men reaching
down to the river some hundred yards distant, others running
about with lights, others rescuing books, etc., from rooms in
danger. The grass plot reserved for the Fellows especial
use was trodden down by unprivileged undergraduates.
Altogether it was a notable scene, and I am glad I was
present. . . . You will be pleased to hear of one alteration
I have made. I go to bed regularly at half-past i and
am up at half-past 4. I have an alarum and it goes
capitally. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, yd June 1847.
My dearest Mary I promised you a line, and really I shall
scarcely write more. Our examination has now been going on
for three days, and I have been doing myself no credit, so that
I do not feel much in letter-writing humour. However, I will
not complain. I had not got up my subjects well, but trust
I had not been wasting my time. And so no more of this.
As for the Greek Ode, it is the same prize I got last year,
and I have the honour (or misery ?) of reciting before the
Queen on the ;th of July, the Installation Day. . . . My
86 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
early rising has lately degenerated to 6 o clock. I have
found it so difficult to get to bed during the examination ;
but I will certainly bring down my alarum with me, and then
I will set you all a good example. I picked up by chance
to-day a translation of Lamartine s History of the Girondists,
and read in it an account of Madame Roland which pleased
me for its style amazingly. We must try to read the book
when I come down. It embraces quite the noblest part of
the French Revolution.
You flatter my water-colours beyond all due. The only
excuse you can offer is to do better, and I know you will
soon. But short as my note is, I must say good-bye. Ever
believe me, my dearest Mary, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, St. James Day, 1847.
I have read very little this week except my usual work.
Vinet still remains a great treat when I have time to
devote to him : some passages I could now point out would,
I am sure, be sufficient to compensate for his unpre
possessing exterior. We shall have all the excitement of
two elections next week. Mr. Lee will, I hope, come up,
and I want to talk to him about many things. You know all
I mean. Are we together now in reading ? This morning I
read Amos v., and shall begin 2 Peter this evening. How
strange it seems in reading the later Prophets to find so few
allusions to the Messiah : all seems to be lost in the con
templation of the present sin and immediate punishment of
the Jewish race. I should like to see this question I mean
of the relation of these prophets to the two dispensations
fully considered, and their case for us clearly explained.
I hope your botanical researches will go on well, and
you may amuse yourself with trying accurately to describe
all the churches you see. Try if you can name and describe
every little part, if you can recognise any moulding, and so
forth, and if you please you may send me the result of your
inquiries, and I will see whether they give me any clear
ideas.
Do you know Keble for St. James Day ? If not, read it,
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 87
Marie; I hope at some time to be able to have the last
verse and half sung even in Church it may be. All the
time I was at home we never sung his Evening Hymn. I
often thought of it ; we must try to improve in this particular.
My father sent me such a letter the other day, three whole
sheets ; he never sent such a one before, and you see I must
tell you. I hope we shall never break through the good rule
we began at home, and won t you try something of the same
kind?
You ask for a subject for Tuesday, but I know you will
find one, and I do not want merely an essay : tell me what
you think or feel or do. And now, my dearest Mary, I must
say good-bye, and "remember," for I have no little flower to
speak for me. Believe me ever, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
I forgot to tell you my hours ; yours, by the way, are very
good ones. I am in bed by n and up by 5, and all goes
on very pleasantly in that respect.
LLANBERIS, Sunday, 2nd October 1847.
My dearest Mary I must again before leaving Wales
write with the mountains all around me, hills over hills, crest
over crest, piled in the wildest beauty. The village where
we have been staying for the last three days lies just at the
foot of Snowdon, and the hotel looks over the Lake of
Llanberis, which is divided by a jutting headland on which is
a picturesque old tower called Dolbadarn Castle. On the
other side of the lake rises a beautiful range of mountains
partly covered with wood, all the others being entirely bare,
save where in the valley some little farmhouse is hidden in a
nest of trees, or where the quaint old chapel is concealed.
The entrance to the village from Capel Curig, the road we
followed, is through a pass about five miles long, with cloud
-capped mountains on either side, partly covered with turf at
their base, which contrasts beautifully with the grey slate
rocks, or the little silver threads of water trickling down
their sides ; between them runs a mountain stream, and
the solitude makes sweet music. Such scenery I never
88 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
before beheld, and could you see it as I did at evening,
with a red sunset over the lakes at the end, and the outline
of the old tower dimly seen, and the mist slowly descending
down the mountain sides, I am sure you would share my
delight. To describe it is as impossible as to sketch it, you
must see it at some time or other. On Friday we ascended
Snowdon, and though it was enveloped in a fog, which is
generally the case, as we learnt from the complaints in the
visitors book at the summit, yet we enjoyed the view afforded
us by the separating of the mists all the more. Fancy a
little mountain lake with a gentle slope on one side de
scending to it, on the other broken crag covered with
moss, and with countless little rivulets dashing and foaming
along, and on the third rocks perfectly perpendicular for
some hundreds of feet, with the blue outlines of distant
mountains in front, and you will have a little picture of our
botanising spot. If you wish to give life to the scene, add a
few sheep jumping quite fearlessly from crag to crag, and fancy
you hear from time to time, when the mist thickens, a loud
" Brooke ! " answered by as loud a " Holloa ! " Yesterday we
ascended the Glydar Mountain, the great rival of Snowdon,
and as the day was finer we enjoyed it even more. The
scenery is beyond all description : mountain lakes, blue
mountains, white mists, an azure sky, black defiles, and
sparkling cataracts must be compounded in every conceivable
manner to afford a proper idea of the country. Connected
with our return in the evening is a little tale I must tell you
when I see you ; all I can say now is that I am very thankful
that I can now write, and that my father is safe, for we were
all but lost upon the hills. To-morrow, if all be well, we
intend to go to Carnarvon, and thence to Menai Bridge,
and by steamer to Liverpool. I certainly never enjoyed a
journey so much, nor do I remember ever feeling the benefit
of a tour so much. What would you say to me in an old
coat, a baker s cap, a thick stick, with a knapsack over my
shoulder, a handy bottle in my hand, and a cigar in my
mouth ? Would you know me ? But enough of this. To-day
has been a dull Sunday a Sunday without church. I was, I
suppose, misinformed about the service, for I went to the
church and found it closed. For some time I looked at
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 89
poor Mr. Starr s grave, whose remains, you remember, were
found a short time since. It is tastefully decorated with
stones and moss and yew, and may well be the subject of
earnest reflection. He was young and active and zealous,
the sole stay of a mother and two sisters. I have been much
interested with a little memoir of him I found here. It was
strange to read the strong aspirations he once indulged in
after fame how fearfully they were realised. I found a
singular tract to-day of the New Jerusalem Church in the
parlour. I wish we were as zealous in spreading our
doctrines as they appear to be in spreading theirs. Some of
the views of the Jewish sacrifices quite made me pause. You
will feel surprise, perhaps, at the weakness of my convictions.
I wish, Marie, they were stronger, but men seem so strangely
to abandon Scripture, words seem to change so much in
meaning, and creeds to change with them, that half the
theology of the present day is based on mere ignorance and
carelessness. But why should I trouble you with all this ?
I was much struck with two verses to-day as I was walking,
" Take heed, my brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil
heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God : exhorting
one another daily, while it is yet called to-day, that ye be not
hardened by the deceitfulness of sin." The last words are
very fearful. Let us ever "remember" the remedy the
Apostle suggests. Let us ever pray earnestly and heartily
for all men, particularly those near to us. And now, my
dearest Mary, I must say a Dieu. Ever believe me, yours
most affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
EDGBASTON, BIRMINGHAM, i$tA October.
My dearest Mary After the carman had made exertions
which I fear almost rendered us amenable to the law against
cruelty to animals, I managed to reach the train just as it
was on the point of starting, and in accordance with my
resolution consigned myself to a carriage (!) something
between a cattle-box and a covered cart airy enough, no
doubt, and in summer I fancy very comfortable, and so even
in autumn, as thought a party who indulged in singing right
merrily from time to time. At Gloucester I got very com-
90 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
fortably settled, and reached home in good time and so
ended my journey; and so is almost ended one of the
pleasantest vacations I ever spent.
In the railway carriage, as we had no lights, I began to
think, and the result was the little fragment which I have
written down trifling as it is in itself, it may be interesting
to you in consideration of your conversation on Tuesday.
Let us heartily pray to feel as I would endeavour to express
at the end, and I feel sure that so our happiness will be the
highest.
What is my task, O Lord ?
For still, though fear and doubt oppress my heart,
Dark doubt and unbelief,
I feel that in Thy work I have a part,
A refuge in Thy fold, and in Thy word relief ;
E en as the sun sheds gladness though his face
With gloom be overspread,
Or as a tiny rill, half-choked with grass,
Still decks the healthy moor with a " bright emerald thread."
What is my task, O Lord ?
To bear Thy cross with stern resolve and high,
By many an idol shrine,
Where suppliant lands in abject bondage lie,
And offer prayer and praise which only should be Thine ?
Or where the ivy creeps o er fallen towers,
And temples desolate ?
Or where the wood-wove aisles inwrought with flowers,
Echo the lone bird s song wailing its long-lost mate ?
Bid me whate er Thou wilt,
And oh may I with earnestness and love
Discharge my heavenly task ;
May I to Thee a zealous heart approve !
This prayer alone I raise, this gift alone I ask:
Oh may I learn to sacrifice to Thee
Whate er I dearest own ;
For thee, Lord, may I live ! and breathe on me
A spirit of holy fear, a fear for Thee alone !
Add this, Marie, if you please, to my other fragments.
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 91
EDGBASTON, BIRMINGHAM, iSt/i October 1847.
My dearest Mary First of all I must tell you of an event
at which you will rejoice for our Church s sake Mr. Lee is
the new Bishop of Manchester ! When I called on him on
Saturday and he entered the room, I was very much struck with
his appearance. He seemed very much agitated, and he said
something to me which led me to suppose some serious event
had occurred, but of what nature, whether good or bad, I
could not tell, and then in a minute or two he told me what
it was. We went out directly after, and he spoke admirably,
earnestly, or rather Christianly about it. "Remember,"
Marie. I sincerely rejoice at it for the good he will do ;
much as Birmingham will suffer. We always thought he
lived in too much retirement, but it seems he was not for
gotten ; I believe the Queen herself received him. He has
already given me an invitation to the Palace at Manchester
for Christmas, but of course I shall be obliged to decline it.
I shall look for his first charge with great anxiety : I am sure
he will touch on Education.
Yesterday our collections were not for the Irish, but for
some Infant School which had been planned before the late
distress but suspended in consequence of it, and I must
confess [that I felt much more pleasure in giving towards
them than for the Irish. Much as I should deprecate any
angry feeling towards the Church of Rome, utterly useless
and injurious as I deem all the controversy of the present
day, yet really I am beginning to feel a growing abhorrence
of her principles : they are all earthly, and it is from this
she prospers.
TRINITY COLLEGE, jtA November 1847.
This week I have been out on two evenings at parties
given by a Fellow ; in each case by one in orders ; and each
time I must say the feeling when I left was far from a
pleasant one. On one occasion the conversation was almost
exclusively occupied with a discussion of theatres and
opera singers ! Men speaking from their own experience !
Can you imagine anything worse ? It is perhaps an unseemly
92 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
task to criticise one s neighbours, but indeed I could not
help it on such an occasion. What would our forefathers,
our founders, say, who doubtless were superstitious men,
but earnest too I fully believe? The question of social
intercourse which this matter involves in my opinion is one
of the weightiest we have practically to decide. How we
can lay down a general rule I cannot see. It ought to be
one of the greatest means of doing good, and St. Paul seems
to permit the ties of friendship and fellowship to remain
with an unbeliever. O Marie, as I wrote the last word, I
could not help asking what am I ? Can I claim the name
of a believer ? I seem to have a few hopes, a few desires, a
few earnest aspirations after truth and holiness, but what
more ? All that is sensible and objective in my belief seems
to fade away. I begin to fancy that there is much which
is human in our Church that we have lost the primitive
simplicity and primitive purity, and I tremble when I say
so, for this may be only a temptation. I always would
remember John vii. 1 7. It is a most cheering text, and yet
whence spring the differences of really sincere and zealous
men, can they be fatal? "Remember." I will write no
more in this strain, but I felt so, and I could write no other
wise. I wish I could find some one who feels as I do, or
rather who has felt so. When I observe the men round me, or
when I hear you speak, I cannot but wonder, and yet my own
difficulties may in a great measure arise from my own pride.
I think, Marie, in my last note I was speaking about having
an object in one s life. I do not think I could speak of
anything which is more important. We are, I know, too apt
to trust to the occasion furnishing us from time to time with
objects and motives for action. But I am sure that we do
but act in the true spirit of our Lord s discourse when we
calculate carefully all the sacrifices we are willing to make,
and may reasonably make, and all the duties which we are
fitted to discharge ; and there cannot be a fitter time for so
doing than the present. Even the future will assume a
certain definiteness and reality if we can set before our eyes
that which shall be our great end amid all the variety of
external fortune which Providence may assign ; and I feel
sure that our resolution may be strengthened even by thus
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 93
contemplating at a distance what we judge and feel to be
our duty, though often we might abandon its teaching were
it to be addressed to us without preparation. And now it
is Church time. A Dieu, Marie. "Think on these things."
Ever yours.
TRINITY COLLEGE, nth November 1847.
My dearest Mary You will be surprised, I am sure, to
hear that this evening I am going to a concert. However, I
will explain myself. There is a society of University men who,
with the assistance ot some local musicians, give a certain
number of concerts in the year, and this evening I was offered
a ticket, which, as I have done before, I refused ; but I was
induced to go to the rehearsal, and I felt that it would do me
good, and so I changed my mind. The music to be performed
is very good Haydn s Seventh Symphony, an overture of
Kalliarda s, the overtures to Figaro and Masaniello, and one
or two songs.
I have lately felt extremely dull and unable to read, and I
think that even an evening will be well spent in such a relaxa
tion ; and you cheated me of I don t know how much music
when I was down at Bristol. I will not fill you with my com
plaints, but really the term seems to be flying, and I can do
nothing. My attention is continually distracted. There are
so many claims on it that I know not which to attend to ; but
I am resolved to dispel all excessive anxiety. I sincerely trust
that whatever I may do, it may be so that it may make me
more useful. I would have this thought continually before
my mind. Again and again have I solemnly determined that
all the power and influence 1 ever may have possessed shall
be devoted to one object, and earnestly I would pray that I
may keep my vow. In reference, my dearest Mary, to that ot
which I was speaking in my last note, I always myself am
inclined to rest on the two verses I have so often mentioned,
Mark ix. 24, John vii. 17. I think, indeed, they contain
every consolation. It is in such passages, where we see the
particular adaptation of Scripture to our own feelings, that I
see chiefly their inspiration. There seems to be some refer
ence to every fear, and some remedy against it. Do you
94 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
remember what Wilson says of " the will to ask God s assist
ance " ? I am very glad, Marie, you wrote as you did ; I
seemed to feel that you wrote as you felt, and on such points
at least we should help one another, we should know one
another s thoughts. If I dare not communicate to you my
own wild doubts at times, it is because I feel they are punish
ment for my own pride, and which I should tempt no one to
share. May we be guided in all truth, may we value nothing
so highly. We seem to be required to make no sacrifice, at
least we act as if such were the case. Marie, "remember."
Next Sunday is our Communion day.
TRINITY COLLEGE, Advent Sunday, 1847.
My dearest Mary Even at the risk of writing you a very
dull note, I must begin it this evening. I have from some
cause or other felt singularly low to-day. I do not know that
I have had any reason, without it be the fierce discussion
which is at present raging about the appointment of a Dr.
Hampden (a friend of Arnold s) to the Bishopric of Hereford.
All stigmatise him as a "heretic," and apply all the vocabulary
of theological abuse, which to the Church s shame is an ex
tensive one, to mark him and his adherents. I thought myself
that he was grievously in error, but yesterday I read over the
selections from his writings which his adversaries make, and
in them I found systematically expressed the very strains of
thought which I have been endeavouring to trace out for the
last two or three years. If he be condemned, what will become
of me ? I believe he holds the truth ; if he be condemned, /
cannot see how I shall ever enter the Church. It is a sad
crisis. I maybe speaking too warmly, but you will know that
I do feel warmly too on such subjects. When religion becomes
a science of words and definitions, I cannot help thinking that
its spirit is gone. I wish you could see an article in The
English Churchman (a religious (!) newspaper). They made
mention of Arnold s* heresy. But enough of this, I could not
write less, and I will not write more. "Remember," Marie.
I have read some of Arnold s Life again to-day. You must at
some time read it. If he were a heretic, I should be satisfied
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 95
to be one too. I could soon make a choice between him and
" Saint " Jerome, even in spite of Keble. Keble has lately
published some sermons in which, as well as in a preface on
"the position of Churchmen," I am afraid he will offend
many. I can in some measure sympathise with him. I wish
his creed would surfer him to sympathise with us. If our lives
be spared, we must see strange events. The present advance
of Romanising tendencies is but as the swell which always
precedes, we are told, the retiring of the sea. We must soon
fall back on a mere moral atheism, or what is still as bad, a
"hero-worship." The battle of the Inspiration of Scripture
has yet to be fought, and how earnestly I could pray that I
might aid the truth in that. And yet I would sooner be
" doing." As soon as my Degree is over I shall write to
" our " Bishop, asking his advice about my future life and my
present doubts, and then I hope in earnest to live. I met
with a characteristic remark of Arnold s to-day ; he said that
he could not sympathise with Wordsworth s lines "To me
the meanest flower," etc. ; that "we had no time to bestow
such thought on trifles." But how many minds are there
whose very privilege it is to dwell on small things ! How
many duties would be neglected were it not so ! If he had
meant that we should not suffer speculation to carry us away
from active life, then I could agree with him. But we have
all our several duties. May we all be enabled to discharge
them in all earnestness and in all sincerity ! May God bless
us, my dearest Mary, may He teach us, and teach us to regard
the truth only ! Ever believe me, your most affectionate
BROOKE.
To-morrow I may be more cheerful.
TRINITY COLLEGE, Christmas Day, 1847.
My Christmas Day is now nearly over, and you may picture
me to yourself, my dearest Mary, seated alone in my snug
sitting-room, which is most gaily decked with all kinds of ever
greens, thanks to my boldness last night, with my desk open
before me, which is now only employed on great occasions,
and all my books put aside ; a Keble, a Vinet, and my stout
96 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
little Greek Testament still remaining ; to complete the scene
you may add a cheerful fire, the merry sound of voices in the
room below, and a confused pile of books on my reading
stand which betokens the near approach of an examination.
And how has the day been spent? you will ask. To be candid,
Marie, I think I shall remember it with more pleasure than
many other like days ; and it is with grief I say it, for surely
the presence of* those we love ought always to add to our
pleasure; and yet I seem to prefer solitude; I fear it is because
it has less temptations. It is less difficult to please oneself
than to fulfil one s social duties. But to-day I have not been
much alone, though first I will return to last night. I went
to Chapel, contrary to my usual custom, as there was Cathedral
Service, but I thought that it was excusable to go even
for the pleasure of the ear, and we had " O thou that tellest " ;
after this I went to tea to one of the College tutors, and I
would that his account of the Xmas festivities had shown that
the Christian nature of the season is recognised here, but I
will not dwell on this; and thence, after sallying into the
market-place to get my evergreens, I returned to finish my
week s work. This morning I went to the Schools for a short
time, but there were no regular lessons ; and then we had
Communion in Chapel. After this I read in my rooms till
Hall time Pascal chiefly ; and after Hall a friend sat with
me till Chapel time, when we had that glorious chorus " Unto
us a Son is born " ; and after this I have been talking with an
old schoolfellow whom I have not seen for two years. He is
reading for Orders. He entirely sympathises with my
difficulties, and I need not say how pleasantly the evening
has been spent. But you might have smiled had you heard
my fruitless endeavours to sing "Hark the herald angels
sing." What would I have given for my piano ; nevertheless
I made the effort, and that satisfied me. I do not remember
talking last year of going abroad, but that has been one of the
subjects of conversation this evening. I feel more and more
inclined to question the lightness of the spirit which would
lead me away from England, and I feel sure that we have
more works of self-denial here, and I may perhaps say more
room for energy and zeal, than in India or New Zealand.
But then, my dearest Mary, it is the very difficulty of living
ii CAMBRIDGE : UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 97
here as I think a Christian minister should live would make
me wish to go to some distant place where simplicity is not
called meanness, nor liberty annoyance or heresy. Our whole
Church seems here so necessarily affected by the general tone
of society, that it would be impossible to restore the spirit of
simpler times. But hear how I am speaking impossible
nay, not if it be right and I will continue this strain no longer.
On this day I would again most solemnly resolve to devote
my whole life and energy to God s service. And pray most
earnestly for me, my dearest Mary, that I may be taught how
I may best employ the talents which have been committed to
my keeping that in every trial and every joy this great
object may ever be before me ; that no success may elate me,
no disappointment discourage me, but that in all I may find
some fresh aid towards faithfully discharging my proper duties.
Are you, Mary, earnestly determined to join in those same
resolves? Let me ask you to examine yourself. Do not
answer from mere feeling or impulse : try to realise all the
difficulties of such a course as I should point out, and con
sider whether you would be willing to meet them. In all we
do and plan and think, now, and in time to come, may we
sincerely and heartily serve God ! May His Spirit be with us
now and for ever ! Amen.
In spite of your forebodings, I trust you enjoyed your
Xmas Day much more than you anticipated. I was quite
delighted with mine, and yesterday was very pleasantly spent.
And now after this refreshment the examination is staring me
in the face ; but I will not be anxious I have quite resolved
to keep my determination.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 29^ December 1847.
My dearest Mary It is a bad beginning to a note to say
that I feel disinclined to write, but if you knew the strange
feelings and occupations of a " questionist " within less than
a week of his examination, I know you would have fellow-
feeling with me. If all be well this time next week one day
of our examination will be over ; and how soon it will all be
over how soon it will all be but a mere remembrance, a name
and nothing more. But there is some comfort, while we set
VOL. I H
98 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
not undue value on University honours, in knowing that all
the time useful habits of thought and action are being gained,
which will last when the excitement which in some degree
stimulated them is forgotten.
I am very thankful that hitherto I have escaped the in
fluenza. You do not appear to have been so fortunate, and
from what I know of it, I can fully commiserate with you. I
must tell you, as it is a thing in which I took some interest, that
Dr. Hampden was elected Bishop of Hereford on Tuesday,
two only out of about fifteen opposing him. The leader of
the opposition, the Dean, appears from his own statement to
have been a disappointed candidate for the preferment, and
so I cannot value his opinion much. Dr. Hampden has,
however, been formally charged with heresy, and I shall wait
with great interest to see the result of the trial. I am very
glad that Mr. Lee entirely favours Hampden, and yet I felt
sure he would.
I think if I had been with you on Xmas Day, I should
have resisted the temptation to be proud, even if you had
praised that little air, and I know you would have been so
much amused with my attempts at singing that at least the
praise would have been neutralised.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 6tk January 1848.
I know nothing more suited to inspirit us than to notice
the pleasure which a kind word or look will shed on the most
miserable. It is strange that we do not always seek to
employ such simple charities, to use an old word, but it is this
kindliness of manner, this ever-cheerful, ever-peaceful spirit,
which we gain last, and for which we should most earnestly
pray. It is that which above all others aids us in our social
duties. I know naturally I am far more inclined to scorn
than pity, and yet I fancy I can feel the growth of a deep
interest and a firm sympathy with all our "neighbours,"
though pride will yet make me often very selfish. It seems
as if I am inclined to learn nothing ; I must find out all
myself, and then I am satisfied, but that simple faith and
obedience which so many enjoy, I fear will never be mine.
ii CAMBRIDGE : UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 99
How prolix we may be when we talk of ourselves, and yet I
do not think you will be an unwilling hearer, and I would
have you know my whole nature, for at times I fear you do
not comprehend it ; but it is not all contradiction, I think,
and it will, I trust, grow firmer and more steadfast. I will
not talk to you about the examination. I am resolved to
convince myself that it is a matter of very little moment
though this be a hard lesson. We are not admitted to B.A.
till the 3oth, I think. How soon after B.A. follows the solemn
ordination! You can scarcely tell how I felt when I found
we had to sign some declaration before the degree. I feared
it might be of an assent to the Thirty -Nine Articles, and
that I dare not give now ; but to my great joy, it was only of
being a member of the Church of England, and that I am, I
fully believe, in all her ancient spirit. All this now will be
about myself; to prevent this I will copy a few lines at
random from The Princess :
Woman is not undevelopt man,
But diverse : could we make her as the man,
Sweet Love were slain, whose dearest love is this,
Not like to like, but like to difference.
Yet in the long years liker must they grow ;
The man be more of woman, she of man ;
He gain in sweetness and in moral height,
Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ;
She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care ;
Till at the last she set herself to man,
Like perfect music unto noble words ;
Self-reverent each and reverencing each,
Distinct in individualities,
But like each other e en as those who love.
Again another chance passage, and a very beautiful one.
A mother laments over her child, whom she has left in the
power of others. She says it
Will sicken with ill-usage, when they say
The child is hers ; and they will beat my girl
TOO LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Remembering her mother : O my flower !
Or they will take her, they will make her hard,
And she will pass me by in after-life
With some cold reverence worse than were she dead.
The three last lines are, I think, exquisitely pathetic, ex
quisitely simple. And last a description of his mother one
Not learned, save in gracious household ways,
Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants,
No Angel, but a dearer being, all dipt
In Angel instincts, breathing Paradise,
Who look d all native to her place, and yet
On tiptoe seem d to touch upon a sphere
Too gross to tread.
I know you will thank me for these little gems ; but I
would he had somewhere in his work one Christian thought ;
but he has not one. Yet I am sure Christianity alone can
teach the true relations of "man and the helpmeet for him."
You see again I shall wander ; but I will have done.
I am very glad, my dearest Mary, you are likely to have a
class. Bad as mine is unfortunately, I learn very much
from them, at least I learn what my duties will be.
Look on us, Lord, and take our parts,
Even on Thy throne of purity ;
From these our proud yet grovelling hearts
Hide not Thy mild forgiving eye.
After all, a verse of Keble is worth volumes of Tennyson.
A Dieu, Mary. Ever "remember." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
l^th January 1848, 9. 30 A.M.
My dearest Mary Once more I must ask you to rejoice
with me. I am 24th Wrangler, and I need not say that is
a higher place than I could possibly have expected. I am
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 101
sure my father will be very much pleased. And I know you
will shall I say because I am ? I have very much to be
thankful for ; and to increase my pleasure my most intimate
friend is two places above me. It is some time since two
University Scholars were Wranglers together. In all I do and
in all my successes and disappointments few as I have had
may I always " remember." And do you, my dearest Mary,
ever " remember." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Please direct in future "Trinity College."
TRINITY COLLEGE, Sunday, 1848.
My dearest Mary Again for some little time I am free
from examinations. In about three weeks all will be over.
For my own part, I have been greatly pleased that I have
been able to feel comparatively so little excited during the
last week, and yet it has not been any consciousness of doing
well which has buoyed me up, but I trust a sincere reflection
on the real nature of such distinctions as success confers, and
an earnest endeavour all along to remember the vow I have
so often made to devote all my energy and knowledge to the
greatest of all services. And shall I say that I feel that
whatever success I may have, it will be that which will most
fit me to be useful? "Remember," Marie, so that I may
heartily say this. In my last note I just hinted at the affairs
abroad, and since that time we have had a repetition of the
"three days" of 1830. I cannot say that I feel any great
indignation at the Parisian mob. They had doubtless great
grievances to complain of, and perhaps no obvious remedy
but to be gained by force. But then the effects will be felt
all over Europe. I cannot think of Italy or Austria without
alarm. It seems that a civil war is greatly to be apprehended
or hoped for, I hardly know which, and our country may
certainly hope for some safety-valve for French violence.
They are indeed fearful times. There is need of a real
Church amid all this confusion.
The gentleman from whom I received a note is one of
the co -heirs with my father of the property in question. I
102 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
imagine some proceedings will be taken, but of course all
legal affairs are not only tedious but uncertain. I imagine
the estate is a considerable one. My father s share would
be one -third. But it is no use anticipating possible con
tingencies. On looking over the pedigree, I found that a
Brooke greatly distinguished himself for the King in the Civil
War. I fear we should have fought against him.
TRINITY COLLEGE, yd February 1848.
My dearest Mary I was very sorry that my staying five
minutes too long at Mid s on Monday evening should have
caused my note to be too late. The post office here is quite
inexorable, save to the bribe of sixpence, and that I declined
to give. You can scarcely tell how I rejoice in my new
rooms. For the first time I feel a personal interest in
everything about me. All is my own. My own carpets and
chairs, and such an easy-chair ! Twice has it deluded me to
sleep, and in my inventory they call it a study -chair ! I
am afraid I could give you no idea of my new domains,
which include one entrance hall with a red baize door (!) and
two oval glass panes in it (!). Then a minor passage leading
to a spacious gyp -room, while the principal entrance leads
to my sitting-room, which is a most venerable-looking room,
very nicely furnished, with two windows looking into Neville s
and one into the New Court. From this are doors which
lead into a snug little study, where I intend to shut up pupils
in time to come, and into my bed-room, which is very nicely
fitted up; and at length I have found out the difference
between horse-hair and straw. Only one thing offends my
spirit of liberty, and that is the barring up my bed-room
windows, as I have no intention of getting out by that way,
and if I had I should probably only reach the roof of the
library at the farthest. My carpets and paper are very pretty ;
and fortunately, as on two sides the walls of my room slope,
while a third is entirely occupied with a bookcase, I have
little temptation to be extravagant in pictures. At some time
or other I shall buy one or two favourites perhaps before
you visit me ; and I shall make Lizzy contribute some work
ii CAMBRIDGE: UNDERGRADUATE LIFE 103
of art or other. When will you, Marie, send me a picture ?
I am afraid my chapters are now in sad confusion owing to
my late distresses ; will you tell me what you are .reading ?
When you last wrote we were together.
I am afraid there is very little chance of my grandmamma s
recovery. My father gives a very unfavourable opinion, and
I never doubt his judgment. I wrote her a few lines yesterday.
You have heard that the judges are divided about Hampden s
case, so that the application for the rule will be dismissed,
and the Church freed from the miserable bitterness of party
feeling. Have you ever read any of Archbishop Leighton s
writings ? I hardly know why I ask the question, save that
I think he has more than any one realised the true character
of a bishop. He refused the title of "my Lord." The
differences between the Jesuits and Jansenists were on the
point of grace. They were extremely subtle. Perhaps you
may generally express the opinion by saying that the Jesuits
believed all to have sufficient grace given, while the Jansenists
supposed that this was peculiar to the elect. They may be
represented in some way, I fancy, by the Arminians and
Calvinists of our own Church. But Paschal s Provinciates
are not directed against the Jesuits in this opinion, but
generally against their speculative morality. I cannot imagine
anything worse, and but by the help of their writers, I could
never have imagined anything so bad. We must read some
of the Pensees when we next meet. But now it is Chapel
time. A Dieu. Ever "remember." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
CHAPTER III
CAMBRIDGE : GRADUATE LIFE
1848-1851
IMMEDIATELY after the appearance of the Classical
Tripos list, Westcott was busied with private pupils.
Of these he had six during the May term. One of
his earliest pupils was F. W. Wickenden, who also
was an old Birmingham boy, and to whom he became
greatly attached. None of my father s friends, save
Wickenden, ever addressed him by his Christian name.
During the long vacation of 1848 my father, in con
junction with Mr. H. R. Alder, conducted a reading
party in Wales.
Their headquarters were at Beddgelert, and they
made many ascents of Snowdon from various sides by
night as well as day. A graphic account of one of
these nocturnal ascents is given in a letter to Miss
Whittard. Therein he says :
About half-past n we set out rich with rug or plaid, a
" wide-awake " (this is the fashionable head-dress, I can assure
you the costume of the Cambridge elite\ and a stick. Fortu
nately we had prudence enough to add a lantern, a spare
piece of candle, and some brandy to our general stock. Two
only intended to go to the foot of the mountain, and so
104
CHAP, in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 105
finally our party was reduced to four. The sky soon became
perfectly clouded over, and there was no moon. In the
warmth of a conversation we walked two miles past the
proper turning, then discovering our mistake we came back,
and entering a little path, finally determined that that could not
be right, and so still continued in the direction of Beddgelert
till we came nearly to the village. Here we consulted for a
short time, and in spite of the rain which now began to fall,
we determined to return once more and try the path again.
I took the lantern and a match, and asked for three minutes
only to decide whether we were right or not ; and in less
than the appointed time I came to a cottage which we all
recognised, and this being passed, the ascent began. At first
we had to pass over some flat boggy ground with a very faint
track, but we completed this part of our journey successfully.
But before we had done so the rain was falling in torrents,
and when we began to climb among the rocks every path
was a little mountain stream. Yet we determined to " fold
our plaids around us " and proceed. I could not enumerate
to you all our perplexities when now and then the path dis
appeared in a bog, and they had to send me out with the
lantern on every side to try to rediscover the traces of foot
steps ; but at length we came to the ridge of the hill where
all the different paths unite in one distinct one. But now
we were assailed by a new fear. We had already called into
requisition our second piece of candle, and as the wind blew
hard there seemed every prospect that it would blaze away,
if it did not meet with a more untimely fate. Add to this
that one of our party grew very fatigued, and we had to halt
continually ; yet in spite of all we came to the neck of the
mountain, on each side of which are very steep declivities,
and the path in many places not three feet wide, and passed
it quite safely. We found two other parties at the top, and
took refuge in one of the cabins, and procured some coffee,
^removing as many of our wet clothes as we could. Of course
we gave up all idea of a view. But at about 4 o clock there
was a little break in the clouds, and though this immediately
closed again, yet on going out some few minutes after I saw
a little peep of the sea, of the deepest blue ; and now every
minute it grew larger, and then a mountain top appeared,
106 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and another, and another, till the whole distance was clear.
Every shadow was a deep purple, and it is impossible to
conceive anything more striking than the contrast between
the hills and the bright white clouds which yet floated about
their summits. But while looking at the distance we noticed
that the mist in the valley below us suddenly began to roll
like a great sea, and in less time almost than I spend in
writing they were cleared. After this gleams of sunshine
passed over different parts of the view, now lighting up
Harlech Castle, beautifully situated amongst some trees ;
again the fertile isle of Anglesea, divided like a map into
ten thousand little squares. We gazed and gazed, and felt
we could gaze for ever. The colours were so strange and
beautiful, and all seemed so fresh and clear, as they always
indeed do in a morning, that we could scarcely return and
leave so much that was grand ; but we did, and experienced
no injury from our expedition save a day s sleepiness.
On the occasion of another ascent of Snowdon,
my father had a fall and cut his hand badly. The
effect of this fall remained with him through life. The
middle finger of his right hand was drawn forward on
to the palm, so that he could never wear a glove on
that hand, nor shake hands with any degree of comfort.
He just mentions this accident in a letter to his
mother :
BEDDGELERT, zist September 1848.
My dear Mother I am much obliged to you for your
note, and the one you enclose from the Major. 1 If all be
well next summer, I will certainly make an effort to see him,
and this " Long " has been so pleasant that I have half
resolved to visit Scotland next year in the same way. I
shall now so soon be at home again that I am quite disin
clined to write long notes, and when I went up Snowdon last
I cut my hand, so that it is still difficult to hold a pen, and
this is a fine excuse for laziness. . . .
1 George Foss Westcott, who resided at Stirling.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 107
If you could come or my father, I would with pleasure
stay another week here, for I think I shall not go in for the
Fellowship, as Scott will not, for he has been unwell; and under
any circumstances it would have been very inconvenient for
me to have returned to Cambridge so soon as the 2nd of
next month. . . .
Tell my father that I did not find Woodsia, but I have
applied to the "boots" at Dolbadarn, and he promised to
procure it by means of ropes. Ever believe, my dear mother,
your most affectionate son, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
In the October term of 1848 Westcott had twelve
private pupils ; amongst them being J. B. Lightfoot, who
had gone into residence at Cambridge the previous
October. Lightfoot also had been educated at King
Edward VI. s School, Birmingham. He had not known
Westcott in his school-days ; in fact, he did not join the
school until the term after Westcott had left. He knew
him by repute, however, and it was Westcott s school
and college reputation that induced Lightfoot to seek
his tuition. Neither had he known E. W. Benson,
who was also a Birmingham boy, when at school.
Benson was several years his junior, and did not go
up to Cambridge until after Westcott had taken his
degree ; but Benson had been a junior contemporary
of Westcott in school -days, and had as a little boy
noticed how Westcott, the head of the school, was,
for his singular merits, allowed the unique privi
lege of resting his head upon his hands in class.
Following Lightfoot s example, Benson at the begin
ning of his second year placed himself under the
guidance of his successful school-fellow. It was at
Cambridge therefore, and not at Birmingham, that the
lifelong friendship of the distinguished trio of old
Birmingham boys began, and its foundations were laid
io8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
in Westcott s rooms in Neville s Court. 1 Speaking of
Westcott as his private tutor, Benson says : " He is so
kind, so patient, so industrious, so interested in one, so
clever, and so highly accomplished (you understand
what we mean by accomplishments, not dancing and
flower painting), that the very company of him does one
good, and his teaching is most instructive. He is an
admirable scholar, and has the gift of imparting too." 2
Another of Westcott s private pupils was F. J. A.
Hort. With these three my father was intimately
associated for the rest of their lives. Though they
were his juniors he survived them all, and stood as a
mourner by the open grave of each one of them in suc
cession. 3 What the loss of friends and fellow-workers
so dear meant to him in those last years of his life
none can tell.
Westcott s success as a private tutor was most
remarkable. His pupils found in him far more than a
mere " coach," and many of them, besides those already
mentioned, remained his friends through life. Dr.
Whewell, Master of Trinity at that time, thus wrote of
him : " Besides being a very excellent scholar, and a
person of great learning and literature, and of admirable
character and agreeable manners, he has a zeal for teach
ing which is quite extraordinary. The pains he bestows
upon his pupils here (private pupils) is unparalleled, and
his teaching is judicious as well as careful."
At this period my father s diary is mainly composed
of quotations from his daily reading. He was so
1 Benson and Lightfoot had been friends at school.
2 Life of Archbishop Benson^ i. 83.
3 In literal truth I should add that my father would not be persuaded
to interfere with an important Diocesan engagement, so that he was only
in spirit present at Archbishop Benson s funeral. His eldest son was there
as his representative.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 109
engrossed with his pupils that he found time for little
else. Though he made new friends, especially among
his pupils, he sadly missed the old companions of his
undergraduate days. One of his new friends was
H. R. Alder, 1 who was also engaged in private tuition.
None of his pupils are ever mentioned in his diary.
26th October ( Cambridge). Begin work again, and am very
much occupied. Scarcely any time for thinking or reading,
but in Chapel. Every night I am thoroughly tired. I am
growing careless. Do I feel this ? . . . May I think more
of TWV ew TOV Koa-fjLov as we read in the Phadrus. We all
seem in one great whirl ostentation.
loth November. A fortnight has passed and nothing
seems done. ... I have time enough if I had energy. . . .
Mosses, ferns, and everything are neglected.
2$th November. Matt. xii. 31, 32. 2
28^ November. Arnold is, I think, quite right when he
says that the true revelation of the Bible is original righteous
ness and not original sin. All our notions of a perfect being
are inseparably connected with sin and temptation. We
cannot even conceive of existence unaffected by sin. We are
inclined to prefer holiness to innocence that which has
struggled to that which is above the struggle.
\Afth December. Return to Birmingham. Am detained
some few hours at Peterborough. Get Elihu Burritt s
Sparks. With many I am extremely pleased. . . .
" Mother, mother ! don t let them carry me to the dark, cold
graveyard ; but bury me in the garden in the garden, mother."
1849
2\st January (Birmingham). A day much to be re
membered. The state of thousands may depend on it. Our
most trifling actions have infinite results ; and who can
1 Some time Dean of Cape Town.
2 This unique entry indicates that he was troubled in thought about this
passage (Blasphemy against the Spirit).
no LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
calculate the effect of our most serious resolves. 1 May the
Holy Spirit rest on me and all I love ! How much I need
Divine assistance. Never was I more conscious of weakness !
2&th January (Cambridge). To-day I have been regretting
the loss of my old companions. One after another they have
gone, and here I seem desolate. Yet a new generation has
arisen, and with it new duties. May I discharge them!
1th February. A blank week. Let me collect its
memories. Neglected or hurried duties, or yet worse may
I not say so ? duties deferred. And what resolutions am I
prepared to make now? My time is actually not my own.
This must not be again.
i ith February. A. 2 to tea. Inspiration Apostolical Suc
cession. May I inquire on all these topics with simple sincerity,
seeking only the truth ! I can feel not only the influence of
interest, but perhaps more strongly that of a studied origin
ality and independence. May I be preserved from its effects !
Amen.
2%th February. Tea with A. A long conversation on
many great things. . . . Preaching Residing at Cambridge
Pupils Do we pray for them ? How sincerely I wish we
could feel the great responsibility; for "no man liveth to
himself."
ioth March. ... A poet one who sees into the
hidden mysteries of things and expounds them so that they
may be best understood, most forcibly expressed, and easiest
remembered.
~i.6th March. Go to the Fitzwilliam, and feel that what
Cowper said of poets is true indeed of painters. How little
there is worthy of a Christian land, or a Christian man ! One
little picture of a saint and angel by Anni. Caracci strikes me
much. I could believe that the painter felt that the angel
knew a road to heaven which the pilgrim did not. Thus I
thought :
O toilsome, friendless man ! self-banished thou
From all the joys of life : for life hath joy
In earth and heaven, whose fresh delights employ
Our minds with wonder, and our hearts endow
1 His engagement to Miss Whittard. s H. R. Alder.
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in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE n
With praise for Him who made them. See e en now
The sky is streaked with light, and tells of one
From whom it draws its glory. Thus our sun
Shines on each dewdrop on earth s robe. Thy brow
Is stern, and fixt thy gaze ; yet by thee stands
Bright-browed an angel form, whose earnest eye
Rests on thy mournful look, as silently,
To teach the way of life, he turns his hands
To heaven and earth. Such is our destiny :
Men need our love, and love our God demands.
25th March. To-day I begin Coleridge s Aids seriously.
Still I feel at starting a kind of prejudice, not against the
book, but against the man ; because he seems to have done
so little compared with what he was able to have done. But
yet writing may have been his vocation, and then why are all
his schemes imperfect ?
2%th March. Peterborough Cathedral rouses me to two
little effusions. 1
i8//fc April. My rooms are decorated with my piano,
which is to be a great source of pleasure.
\$th May. What a wild storm of unbelief seems to have
seized my whole system. Literally to-day I feel " alone in the
world " but for the few minutes I heard H. Goodwin " In
me ye shall have peace." I suppose many feel as I do, and
yet I dare look nowhere for sympathy. I cannot describe the
feeling with which I regard the hundreds I see around me
who conform without an apparent struggle who seem ever
cheerful, ever faithful and believing. It is not joy and satis
faction as it should be, it is not envy, but it is a kind of awe
and doubt a mixture of wonder and suspicion. May it soon
be of hearty and sincere sympathy !
1 6th May. How utterly false the dogma, " Where mystery
begins, religion ends " (Dr. Foster). Just the reverse is the
case, I feel.
* 2oth May. . . . Are there not periods in our life corre
sponding to the divisions of the N.T. a historic dawning,
1 One of these is printed on p. 132. Westcott usually went via Peter
borough on his journeys between Birmingham and Cambridge.
H2 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
a historic working, a spiritual realisation of doctrine, and a
mystic revelation of the future ? Wild as my doubts are, I
cannot but feel that the N.T. " finds " me ; and that with its
deepest mysteries but as mysteries, not as dogmas. Why
should we be surprised at the fiery trial of scepticism ? Have
we no struggle to undergo ? I should more reasonably doubt
my safety, if I did not doubt.
2^th July. There is a wide difference between faith and
prudence. What could appear more " reasonable " than the
inquiry of Zachariah, which brought his punishment ? And
thus it is always. Faith is an intuition a momentary
acknowledgment of the heart, spontaneous and perfect.
In the summer of 1849 my father visited the
Continent for the first time. He had hoped to prevail
on his father to accompany him, but eventually found
himself under the necessity of going alone. His loneli
ness was enlivened by encountering a revolution. In a
letter to his friend Wickenden he thus narrates his
experiences :
My entrance into Baden was highly adventurous. I found
myself one day alone at Darmstadt when the weather was hot
and the town dull, and though I was aware that there was
some fighting in the immediate neighbourhood, it seemed out
of the question to stay in such a wretched place without a
struggle to get to Heidelberg or Mannheim. Well, I started
by railway till I came to a station in the possession of Hessian
troops. Here I was obliged to stop, and so proceeded to the
inn at Heppenheim, which was their headquarters. It was a
strange sight to look at the groups of officers, and the mustering
of soldiers ; to hear the rappel beating, and the clattering
of horses, as the orderlies were riding about ; but at length
this amusement became wearisome, and mustering all my
German and all my courage, I inquired for some conveyance
to take me to Mannheim, and fortunately found a German
student who was going there also ; but unhappily he did not
know a word of French. However, we started at dusk, and
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 113
right gladly too, though we were soon stopped and strictly
examined. But all was right, and we journeyed along the
famous Bergstrasse, with its haunted castles silvered by the
moon, and its deep sombre avenues lined by soldiers. But
then the scene changed ; we came to a little village which I
recognised as the scene of a sharp skirmish in the morning, in
which the rebels had been victorious. We were in a moment
surrounded by a troup of " blouses," but they treated us very
civilly, and so we were fairly admitted into their territory ;
but again and again we had to undergo the ordeal of examina
tion. Levelled musquets, peremptory commands, and the
comforting "all right" were the accompaniments of every turn
of the road, till we reached Mannheim early in the morning,
and found that we had passed through the headquarters of
both armies though they were actually at war an adventure
I should not have attempted had my knowledge been as great
as my discontentment at Darmstadt. The whole journey
through Baden was very exciting. The people seemed to have
risen to a man ; every one wore the German tricolor. The
very clerks in the railway offices had swords. Nothing could
be more picturesque than the conical hats and feathers ; the
sashes and old musquets ; the whiskered faces and reckless
bearing of the insurgents. But indeed I am afraid they were
hardly equal to their opponents, and their escort was scarcely
more agreeable than that of an equal number of banditti.
But Switzerland was before us, and we reached it through the
Black Forest by the magnificent pass of the Hallenthal, and
so to Schaffhausen and the Rhine-falls. ... I returned home
by Paris, where I stayed a day, and saw all I wanted to and
more an unhappy people and a discontented soldiery ; care
lessness, recklessness, and frivolity ; " whirligigs " and " Punch
and Judy " in the Champs Elysees within sight of the Arc
d Etoile ; and crowds of " National Guards " staring at a man
on stilts. So I came back to England loving her a thousand
times more than I did before.
In 1849 m y father won the Members Latin Essay
Prize open to Bachelors of Arts, and was elected to a
Fellowship at Trinity College.
VOL. I I
H4 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
During the same year and in the earlier part of
1850, in such intervals as his engrossing tutorial
labours allowed, he was engaged in writing an essay
On the Alleged Historical Contradictions of the Gospels,
for the Norrisian Prize. The essay is dated I4th
March 1850. It won the prize, being published in
1851 under the title of The Elements of the Gospel
Harmony. In the second and subsequent editions it
was named An Introduction to the Study of the Gospels.
Under this name it has been widely read ; in fact,
after the lapse of half a century, this essay, written by
Westcott at the age of twenty -five, is a standard
theological work. It has been altered in details and
amplified from time to time, but in principle it is
the same as when originally penned. 1 As a com
panion volume to the Gospel Harmony, Westcott also
projected an Apostolic Harmony, which was to be an
introduction to the study of the Epistles. This work,
however, he was unable to complete.
Westcott s first book was dedicated to his father,
who was very proud of the work. As a rule, Mr.
F. B. Westcott s letters to his son were, save for a few
geological passages, almost exclusively of a botanical
character, but on this occasion he is wafted into other
fields. He says :
1 " Directly his degree was obtained and his fellowship won, he turned
his mind to producing theological work that should last, and within a year
he had won the Norrisian Prize, which cannot be given till the essay has
been printed and published. It is to this rule that we owe the late Bishop s
first book, Elements of the Gospel Harmony, published in 1851. This
work, in its enlarged form. An Introduction to the Study of the Gospels (first
edition, 1860 ; eighth, 1894), is so much a matter of course to every theo
logical student of our day, that men do not stop to think what an extra
ordinary tour de force it represents as coming from a young man of five-
and-twenty. From the Fathers to the Germans such as Sonntag and
Hagenbach, Westcott had covered the whole field of theological literature,
and he could bring to the discussion thoughts of almost Apostolic depth
and insight." The Times, 29th July 1901.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 115
I have read your book several times, and still think there
is no fault to be found with it in any part. The only thing
that strikes me is that the matter is too much for the volume.
There is sufficient for two or three octavos. I delight in it ;
and the more it is read the more it must be admired. It is
not a work for the million. I shall be very anxious to see the
review in the Edinburgh or in any other good publication. I
am sure it will take a stand as a standard work. When you
have letters of congratulation from such men as Professor
Maurice and Professor Trench and many others whose opinions
are worth securing, you have no occasion to trouble yourself
about these puny notices. I am glad you are engaged to
write a companion volume; but at present I have not
thoroughly digested this. I suppose the second volume will
not appear for at least twelve months ?
What the Edinburgh may have said I know not ;
but the British Quarterly recognised the worth of the
book, and says :
It is, we believe, Mr. Westcott s first publication. It does
him great credit, and is full of promise. It is a rare thing to
find so much ripeness of manner and substance in a first
performance.
In the summer of 1850 my father went with a
reading party to Scotland. Whether he visited his
aged relative, Major George Foss Westcott, who resided
at Stirling, or not, does not appear ; but he returned
filled with admiration for Scotch scenery and Scott s
novels. In this last connexion it is interesting to
notice that he devoted his first literary earnings to the
purchase of a handsome edition of Scott s novels as a
present to his wife.
On the day the party assembled he writes in his
diary :
May all go well in every way ! It is impossible not to feel
n6 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
considerable responsibility, and how much more perhaps at some
future time ! Yet we never should shrink from it. If we seek
fully to discharge our duty, and to avail ourselves of the proper
aid, we need not despair.
Westcott was ordained Deacon on i 5th June 1851,
in the parish church of Prestwich, by his old master
Dr. J. Prince Lee, Bishop of Manchester, his Trinity
Fellowship being accepted as a title. But he was
never able to look back with any pleasure on the
circumstances of his ordination. He was greatly dis
appointed at the lack of fatherly sympathy for which
he had hoped, and grieved at the general undevotional
character of the proceedings. He was unable to feel
the same confidence in the Bishop of Manchester as he
had felt in his great teacher. On 2ist December of
the same year the Bishop of Manchester ordained him
Priest in the church of Bolton-le-Moors.
When, in 1884, he was present at the ordination of
three of his sons by Bishop Lightfoot in Durham, he
remarked to them on the happy change that had come
over these ember seasons. He said then that he had
deeply felt the cold formality of his own ordination,
and had especially regretted that he was not allowed
even to retain the Bible placed in his hands when he
was commissioned. Shabby volume as it was exter
nally, he would have treasured it beyond all other
books, had it not been sternly taken from his reluctant
hands. He found it hard on other accounts than this
to reverence his old master as a bishop, and could with
difficulty be persuaded to renew his intercourse with
him in after years.
In spite of what he called his " Puritanic tempera
ment," Westcott always delighted in congenial society.
He was essentially affectionate and enthusiastic in any
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 117
cause which invited co-operation and served some
useful purpose. He devoted himself with ardour,
during his last year at Cambridge, to two new societies.
One of these was the " Ghostlie Guild " and the other
the " Choral Society." The " Ghostlie Guild," which
numbered amongst its members A. Barry, E. W. Benson,
H. Bradshaw, the Hon. A. Gordon, F. J. A. Hort, H.
Luard, and C. B. Scott, was established for the investi
gation of all supernatural appearances and effects.
Westcott took a leading part in their proceedings, and
their inquiry circular was originally drawn up by
him. He also received a number of communications
in response. Outsiders, failing to appreciate the fact
that these investigators were in earnest and only seeking
the truth, called them the " Cock and Bull Club."
One of my father s earliest letters to Mr. Hort con
cerns this Guild. Writing from Bristol in January 1852,
he says :
I am sorry I have delayed so long to write to you about
our "ghostlie circular," but in truth I have had very little
leisure since I left Cambridge ; my first spare time was
bestowed on the revision of the form which was drawn up at
our discursive meeting, and as soon as the task was accom
plished, I sent it to Benson ; from him it will pass to Gordon,
and then I will send it to you ; of course it is merely pro-
visionary, but when anything is once moulded it is easy to
reshape its details. I expect to return home on Saturday,
and then possibly I may find time. Perhaps when you
receive the " form " you will make any corrections which
occur to you at once and let me have it again as soon as
possible, for I am anxious to make a commencement this
Christmas. I had a note from Gordon the other day, and he
tells me that he has an admirably authenticated communica
tion. I have collected very little, but all my inquiries have
met with a certain sympathy, which shows that many will
echo what they do not choose to say.
I
n8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
The following is the " Ghostlie Circular " in its final
form. It gives a most elaborate classification of
" supernatural " phenomena, and in conclusion requests
that communications be addressed to Mr. Westcott :
The interest and importance of a serious and earnest
inquiry into the nature of the phenomena which are vaguely
called " supernatural " will scarcely be questioned. Many
persons believe that all such apparently mysterious occur
rences are due either to purely natural causes, or to delusions
of the mind or senses, or to wilful deception. But there are
many others who believe it possible that the beings of the
unseen world may manifest themselves to us in extraordinary
ways, and also are unable otherwise to explain many facts the
evidence for which cannot be impeached. Both parties have
obviously a common interest in wishing cases of supposed
" supernatural " agency to be thoroughly sifted. If the belief
of the latter class should be ultimately confirmed, the limits
which human knowledge respecting the spirit-world has hitherto
reached might be ascertained with some degree of accuracy.
But in any case, even if it should appear that morbid or
irregular workings of the mind or senses will satisfactorily
account for every such marvel, still some progress would be
made towards ascertaining the laws which regulate our being,
and thus adding to our scanty knowledge of an obscure but
important province of science. The main impediment to
investigations of this kind is the difficulty of obtaining a
sufficient number of clear and well-attested cases. Many of
the stories current in tradition, or scattered up and down in
books, may be exactly true ; others must be purely fictitious ;
others again, probably the greater number, consist of a
mixture of truth and falsehood. But it is idle to examine
the significance of an alleged fact of this nature, until the
trustworthiness, and also the extent, of the evidence for it are
ascertained. Impressed with this conviction, some members
of the University of Cambridge are anxious, if possible, to
form an extensive collection of authenticated cases of
supposed " supernatural " agency. When the inquiry is once
commenced, it will evidently be needful to seek for informa-
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 119
tion beyond the limits of their own immediate circle. From
all those, then, who may be inclined to aid them they request
written communications, with full details of persons, times,
and places ; but it will not be required that names should be
inserted without special permission, unless they have already
become public property; it is, however, indispensable that
the person making any communication should be acquainted
with the names, and should pledge himself for the truth
of the narrative from his own knowledge or conviction.
The first object, then, will be the accumulation of an
available body of facts : the use to be made of them must
be a subject for future consideration ; but, in any case, the
mere collection of trustworthy information will be of value.
And it is manifest that great help in the inquiry may be derived
from accounts of circumstances which have been at any time
considered " supernatural," and afterwards proved to be due
to delusions of the mind or senses, or to natural causes
(such, for instance, as the operation of those strange and
subtle forces which have been discovered and imperfectly
investigated in recent times) ; and, in fact, generally, from
any particulars which may throw light indirectly, by analogy
or otherwise, on the subjects with which the present investiga
tion is more expressly concerned.
What happened to this Guild in the end I have not
discovered. My father ceased to interest himself in
these matters, not altogether, I believe, from want of
faith in what, for lack of a better name, one must call
Spiritualism, but because he was seriously convinced
that such investigations led to no good.
With the October term of 1851 Westcott s residence
at Cambridge ended ; for in January 1852 he undertook
temporary work at Harrow School. His departure
from Cambridge caused some distress to his new-found
friends. In a long letter, dated 2 1st February 1852, Mr.
Hort describes the doings of the " Ghostlie Guild " and
the " Choral Society " in his absence. His original
120 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
circular in the matter of spiritual phenomena had been
" unceremoniously set aside " for divers reasons, not the
least of which was that it contained words and phrases
" unintelligible or alarming to the general." As to the
Choral Society, it had been decided to put off Judas
Maccabceus " for this term at least, as you are not
with us." That his voice should have been so much
missed comes rather as a surprise to members of his
family, who have never held his vocal efforts in high
esteem. His singing in later years was, in fact, such
that it was difficult to determine what tune he was
endeavouring to execute. But in earlier years
apparently it was not so. He took singing lessons,
and was pronounced to be a tenor. " I wish you
could hear," continued Hort, " the numerous regrets
expressed at the news of your absence for the term.
Gordon told me that when he mentioned it to Benson,
Benson stood rapt like a Sybil, uttering solemnly the
words, * Oh ! what a bore at intervals of half a minute."
But my father had fully determined to withdraw
from Cambridge and enter on other fields of educational
work where a wife could help him. His first idea was
to be a candidate for the Headmastership of Exeter
Grammar School ; but he was dissuaded. Then in
December 1851 he forwarded his testimonials as a
candidate for the Principalship of Victoria College,
Jersey, which was a new institution seeking its first
guide. In the covering letter he says : " It would be
quite out of place for me to make any profession of
my own hope or intentions. At Birmingham I certainly
learnt to value school influence and school training,
and every one must wish to extend any privilege which
he has himself enjoyed and prizes most highly."
The testimonials were ten in number. They are
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 121
interesting as showing -how Westcott s contemporaries,
old and young, regarded him. I therefore reproduce
some selected passages from them.
Dr. J. Prince Lee, Bishop of Manchester, under
whose tuition Westcott had been for the last six years
of his school life at Birmingham, says :
Mr. Westcott was uniformly distinguished by a regular
and habitual discharge of every duty required in the school,
a steady and unwearied industry, and constant desire to
improve. His progress both in classical and mathematical
knowledge was most honourable and satisfactory in every
respect. The prizes and marks of distinction he obtained
were very numerous, indeed almost more than any one of
his companions ever gained, while his desire to give all
satisfaction to those he was placed under gained him their
regard and good- will. But his reading was far from confined
to that required by the routine business of the school. It
was at once extensive and accurate. In drawing, too, he was
very successful. I well remember the pleasure derived by
myself and the other masters from the accuracy of his
examination in different subjects.
Of his University career I say nothing. It speaks best for
itself.
Educated in a large public school, distinguished at Cam
bridge, popular and of large experience as a private tutor, of
unimpeachable character, indefatigable zeal in the pursuit of
knowledge, clear and precise in apprehending and imparting
it, and actuated by a high sense of duty, Mr. Westcott
presents claims for consideration on the part of the electors
to any appointment connected with education which he may
seek such as few can hope to see realised in any one
candidate.
The Rev. W. H. Thompson, Senior Tutor (after
wards Master) of Trinity College, Cambridge, says :
I
122 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I examined Mr. Westcott both when he obtained a
Trinity Scholarship and when one of the Chancellor s gold
medals was awarded to him in the year 1848, and on both
occasions I was greatly impressed with the proofs he gave of
capacity and attainment. In the medal examination he
showed very extensive reading, very accurate scholarship,
and great power of rendering the meaning of the classical
writers in good and appropriate English. His Greek and
Latin compositions, both prose and verse, were correct,
elegant, and spirited, and in all respects he approved him
self a scholar, as compared with scholars, of more than
the usual accomplishments, and much more than usual
promise.
Since he was elected Fellow Mr. Westcott has applied
himself with characteristic ardour to theological studies, of
which he has given the world good earnest, in a publication
which contains the result of much original research, aided by
an acute intellect, and animated by religious feeling and a
sincere love of truth.
I must not omit to add that he has devoted a considerable
portion of his time to the instruction of private pupils (both
classical and mathematical), and that he has discharged this
duty with a zeal, assiduity, and success of which I have seen
very few examples. The love of teaching is evidently as
strong a passion with Mr. Westcott as the love of learning
itself; and with the talent of communicating knowledge he
possesses the power in no ordinary degree of influencing the
moral taste and the conduct of those entrusted to his
charge.
On the whole, I recommend him to the electors with a
confidence perfect and unqualified ; for after much con
sideration I can think of no characteristic of an eminent
teacher and head of a college which he does not possess in
a remarkable degree. I should have no fear for the future
fortunes of an institution whose infancy was entrusted to the
care of one so judicious, so conscientious, and so able.
The Rev. H. W. Beatson, Fellow and Classical
Lecturer of Pembroke College, Cambridge, who was
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 123
an examiner for the Classical Tripos in the years
1839-40 and 1846-49, says:
I consider Mr. Westcott to have shown as complete and
accurate a knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages as
any candidate for classical honours ever obtained in all the
six years for which I have examined. I found his per
formances in translation from Greek and Latin to be of first-
rate excellence. He seemed to have read nearly every extract
proposed, but in those which I judged he had not read, his
critical sagacity, and all but vernacular knowledge of the
languages, enabled him to accomplish his task in a masterly
manner. No shade of meaning escaped his perspicacity;
every particle and every significant syllable of a compound
received its due development ; inversion was employed when
effective, and the periodic style of an original preserved, yet
without losing sight of perspicuity. His English was
judiciously varied to suit the character of his original, and
it gave evidence of a wide-ranging and accurate acquaintance
with our own early national literature. His compositions in
Greek and Latin were such as I have never seen surpassed,
and never hope I shall see. He changed his Greek or Latin
prose style with the greatest versatility according to the
nature of the English passage, evincing a close and critical
attention to the manner and style of the best Greek and
Latin authors. He improved connections and developed
ideas by compounding, and succeeded in giving a close
portrait of his original, yet with all the appearance of an
original composition from its seeming ease and freedom.
In verse passages he omitted nothing, and, what is much
harder, he added nothing, representing every thought and
every epithet of his original with accurate equivalents, yet
felicitous in avoiding expansions and additions which our
first-rate composers seldom refrain from allowing themselves.
Though the examination did not then give as much oppor
tunity as it does now for the discovery of a candidate s
collateral knowledge, still his papers contained traces of
extensive and accurate researches into ancient history,
geography, and the manners and opinions of those ages.
124 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
In the whole compass of my papers his vigilance was such
that he never once committed himself by omission or error,
other than of the most impalpable description, such as only
the lynx eye of an examiner would detect.
Mr. W. Walton, Fellow of Trinity College, Cam
bridge, author of treatises on Co-ordinate Geometry
and Differential Calculus, Mechanics, Hydrostatics, etc.,
says :
I have no hesitation in declaring that Mr. Westcott has
acquired a very exact and critical knowledge of all the
academic branches of mathematics and natural philosophy,
and that he uniformly displayed much vigour of conception,
as well as a very refined and elegant taste, in the form of his
mathematical reasonings. I may perhaps be allowed to add
that, bearing in mind not only his singular clearness of
thought and power of luminous exposition, but also the
urbanity and kindness of manner which, as a member of my
class, he always exhibited towards me, I feel assured that he
would be most valuable as a professor, and, as a principal of
a college, most agreeable to a body of professors.
The next selected testimonial is from one of his
pupils. It is given in full :
Gentlemen Confident that Mr. Westcott will have the
testimony of more mature judges to his fitness for the office
which is now at your disposal, I shall yet venture, on the
ground of the great opportunities which I have had of form
ing an opinion from personal intercourse, to claim from you
a hearing, which otherwise it would have been presumptuous
in me to expect.
Influenced by Mr. Westcott s school and university reputa
tion, I applied to him early in my undergraduateship to allow
me to read with him as a private pupil. From that time
forward I, at different periods, enjoyed the privilege of his
instruction in classics. The general success of Mr. Westcott s
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 125
pupils is a far more valuable comment on his abilities as a
tutor than any individual case can be ; yet I can bear personal
testimony to the soundness of the system which he pursued
in the interpretation of classical authors, and where deeper
thought and more patient investigation were required, I found
his assistance invaluable. As Mr. Westcott is the only private
tutor from whom I have received classical instruction in
Cambridge, I feel bound to say that I am indebted to him
for my University success.
But I should do injustice to him were I to stop here.
Much as I value his guidance in this respect, I feel far more
grateful to him for imparting to me higher principles both of
thought and of action, by which I hope to be guided here
after. I am but one among many who can bear testimony
to Mr. Westcott s universal kindness and the warm interest
which he takes in the well-doing of his pupils. We have
been accustomed to look to him for advice in all our
difficulties, and have ever found in him a wise counsellor and
a firm friend.
Under the conviction that those qualities which have won
him the affectionate respect of all who know him cannot fail
to render him most efficient, under Providence, as the
Principal of the College of which you are administrators, I
beg to subscribe myself, gentlemen, your obedient servant,
J. B. LIGHTFOOT,
Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge,
Senior Classic, and
Senior Chancellor s Medalist, 1851.
Last of all, though by no means the least interesting,
comes the testimonial from his past and present pupils.
It was apparently drafted by E. W. Benson. They
say :
Understanding that Mr. Westcott wishes to become a
candidate for the office at present in your gift, we, the under
signed late and present pupils of that gentleman at Cam
bridge, beg to offer you our testimony with respect to his
qualifications as a teacher.
126 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Several of us who remember him as occupying the position
of head boy in one of the public schools, and have therefore
watched with special interest his brilliant career in this
University, have throughout had occasion to admire his
constant and high -principled application to the duties of
the several positions in which he has been placed ; and we
all can testify that the high character which these particular
qualifications have gained for him in this place is in all
points borne out by our own intimate and, in most cases,
daily observation.
To Mr. Westcott s scholarship and acquirements you will
doubtless receive more satisfactory testimony than ours can
appear to be. We may at least say that his familiarity with
the classical authors, and his accurate knowledge of both their
sentiments and language, are most striking.
Several of us have also carried on our mathematical
reading, either wholly or in part, with Mr. Westcott s
direction and assistance, and can bear testimony to the
ability and efficiency of his teaching in that department.
Of those higher points of character which, as they belong
to the scholar and gentleman, so ought in an especial manner
to be united in the headmaster of a public school, we venture
respectfully to speak. Mr. Westcott possesses in a high
degree that firmness and evenness of temper which most
become the holder of such an office. He has ever taken a
most affectionate interest in our progress and welfare, and
been at all times ready to give us both sympathy and counsel.
He has imparted great life and spirit to our ordinary work by
the energy and talent with which he engages in it, by con
stantly leading us to exercise original thought in the various
branches of our studies, and by making them mutually com
bine and illustrate one another. He has also engaged and
assisted us in other pursuits besides those which lie directly
before us, and more particularly has by his example and
conversation incited us to a close and critical study of the
Greek Testament, and given most valuable aid in that study
to those who have wished it. In conclusion, we venture to
say that some of the most happily, as well as profitably, em
ployed hours of our University course have been those spent
under Mr. Westcott s tuition, and respectfully yet confidently
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 127
to assure you that we believe no person could be found better
qualified than Mr. Westcott both to preside over a public
institution and to impart sound knowledge in an able and
judicious manner.
MUNCASTER.
FREDERICK S. SUTHERLAND LEVESON-GOWER.
FENTON J. A. HORT, B. A., Scholar of Trinity College.
J. B. LIGHTFOOT, B.A., Scholar of Trinity College.
GEORGE M. GORHAM, B.A., Scholar of Trinity College.
GEORGE CuBirr, 1 B.A., Trinity College.
CHRISTOPHER B. HUTCHINSON, B.A., Scholar of St.
John s College, and Assistant Classical Master of
Marlborough College.
C. R. MOORSOM, Jun., B.A.
J. F. WlCKENDEN, B.A.
T. MIDDLEMORE WHiTTARD, B.A, Trinity College.
R. M. MOORSOM, Trinity College.
CHAS. J. BEARD, Trinity College.
E. W. BENSON, Scholar of Trinity College.
A. A. ELLIS, Scholar of Trinity College.
J. T. PEARSE, Scholar of Trinity College.
R. M. BINGLEY, Trinity College.
J. FENN, Scholar of Trinity College.
J. R. BLAKISTON, Scholar of Trinity College.
Besides the formal testimonials, which included one
from the Master and Fellows of Trinity College, the
Master of Trinity wrote a private letter, a part of
which has been already quoted, in which he says :
" I hardly seem to have said enough in favour of
Mr. Westcott s talents, scholarship, good judgment,
good temper, learning, and love of teaching."
The parties responsible for the selection of the
first Principal of Jersey College were not, however,
convinced by these testimonials, but invited Westcott
1 The present Lord Ashcombe.
128 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and two other selected candidates to come over to the
island for further inspection. This, however, Westcott
was not minded to do, and withdrew his candidature.
In this connexion he received a characteristic letter
from his father, who says : " It certainly would not have
been well to have been beaten by your inferiors, and to
go to Jersey for the purpose." But it was no fear of
defeat that deterred Westcott from facing the Jersey
ordeal, for he had been assured in confidence that the
majority of the electors were in his favour, and had
received a private letter which assured him that his
" election at Jersey " was " certain." He withdrew
simply from a sense, derived from his brief Harrow
experience, of his own unfitness for the position. He
states this clearly in a letter to Lightfoot, dated Qth
March 1852 :
My dear Lightfoot As the representative of my old pupils,
I must write to you to tell you the final decision which I have
made about my future work. I have accepted an assistant-
mastership at Harrow, and abandoned all thought of Jersey.
Yesterday evening I received a note from Dr. Jeune wishing
me to meet the Governors in Jersey as one of three selected
candidates. I was glad to take the opportunity of withdraw
ing, for my experience here has taught me how utterly unfit I
am for the independent management of a great school. Here
I have learnt to feel my own deficiencies most keenly, and I
have found too those who are willing and able to teach and
to train me. For my own part, I have no doubt that I have
made a wise choice. I have not a misgiving, and I feel sure
that you and all my friends will agree with me. There is a
work here to be done, and by God s blessing I hope that I
may be enabled to help in doing it. For this my youth and
power is better fitted than for the office of a governor. I
wonder now at my presumption. Will you kindly tell any
other of my old pupils, who may be likely to take an interest
in my decision, of the task which I have chosen.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 129
So he decided once for all to give up all idea of a
headship, and to be an assistant-master. In acknow
ledging my father s decision to remain at Harrow, Dr.
Vaughan writes :
That you should be willing to come and work with me, so
little worthy to be above you, and when a field of independent
and important labour seemed to be open to your choice
elsewhere, is far more than I can think of without surprise
but much more, with deep thankfulness. In one thing only do
I regret the words which I uttered last night, namely, when
I seemed to generalise about young and untried men for great
and responsible posts like mine. Be assured that it was of
myself alone that I was then thinking NOT of you. Oh, far
from it ; and if such an idea crossed your mind, do not let it
weigh with you for one moment in taking your resolution.
His decision, however, was already made, and he
never swerved from his determination to be content
with a subordinate position. In view, however, of the
letter which he wrote to Benson l on the very day on
which he had his evening talk with the Headmaster, it
is hard to resist the conclusion that Dr. Vaughan s
words must have carried great weight and have further
impressed him with a sense of his unfitness.
During the later years of his Cambridge residence,
more particularly in vacation time, Westcott wrote
several short poems. Several of these he himself has
copied into a notebook, but the majority are scribbled
in pencil on odd half-sheets of notepaper. They were
not intended for publication ; but as they all belong to
this period of his life, and are characteristic of it, it
seems right to place a few of them before his friends.
Two pieces are included in a somewhat remarkable
(dare I say mystical ?) fragment of prose. The writer
1 See p. 171.
VOL. I K
130 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
of this fragment, after a dangerous mountain climb,
finds refuge in a religious hospice. He and a monk,
his companion, are standing in the moonlit chapel
near to a child s grave. The light streaming through
the window throws " rainbow colours on the little
tomb." " For my part, says his companion, * I com
monly pass by the monuments of priests and knights
and rest before yonder figure of a child. Come, let
us stand beside it while we listen to the children s
hymn. . . .
" Father ! in the lonely night,
Shield us from harm !
Shield us till the morning light
Beneath Thine arm.
Evening closes o er our way ;
Our rest is far :
Guide us, Father, lest we stray,
By some bright star.
Hear, oh hear Thy children s prayer
In heaven above,
Till we see our Saviour there,
And sing His love.
Hear us, shield us, guide us home :
In pity see
Wandering steps, for we would come,
Father ! to Thee.
" I awoke, and lo ! the sun was shining through the
window of my chamber, which, like that of the pilgrim
Christian, looked to the east, and a band of choristers
were singing merrily in the garden below ; and I
thought I recognised the voices of my former little
friends as I caught the following words :
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 131
" Wake ! the western hills are flushed
With the rosy glow of day.
Wake ! the night-bird s song is hushed,
And the stars have died away.
Wake ! before the earth resigns
All her freshness to the sky ;
Wake ! while yet the hare-bell shines
Jemmed with crystal jewelry.
Wake ! the morning s early strain
Calls thee from the woods above ;
Wake ! and join a childly train
Journeying to the home of love.
Onward we must journey still,
Onward to that distant land,
Onward over rock and rill,
Moor and mountain, hand in hand.
" Surely this is an enchanted spot/ I said to
myself ; * everything seems to fill me with hope and
zeal. A song of trustfulness and faith lulled me to
sleep last night, and a song of simple energy wakes
me now. Would that each day spoke so at its rise
and close, and found a true echo in my own heart ! "
GOOD FRIDAY (1849)
Oh no ! I cannot weep to-day,
When Nature holds communion high,
When Earth assumes a bright array,
The lustre of the glorious sky :
When sparkling stream, and fitful gleam,
Unite in mystic harmony.
I cannot even pray, for now
My soul is lost in voiceless praise,
132 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
When I behold yon mountain s brow
So calmly grand, and while I gaze
On each gay flower, or each green bower
O erchequered by the leafy maze.
There is a joy more deep than grief,
More solemn than a prayerful sigh,
When the full spirit seeks relief
In silent swelling ecstasy ;
No words can teach, no tears can reach
The depths of our humanity.
WHAT IS LIFE?
The brightness of a falling star ?
A ray of glory from afar,
Amid the wreck of things that are ?-
Not such is life.
The pathway of the silent tomb,
Trodden in sorrow, sin, and gloom ?
A sunless road, a joyless doom ?
Not such is life.
No sage s rule, no poet s lay,
No idle stage of vain display,
No terror-house of grim dismay
Not such is life.
No dark spot in a flood of light,
No lone ray in the boundless night ;
But with reflected glory bright
Oh, such is life.
An island in the world s wide sea,
Begirt by Providence to be
The birthplace of Futurity *
Oh, such is life.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 133
A rainbow arch in mercy given,
Amid Time s storm-clouds tempest-driven,
To span the earth and rest in heaven
Oh, such is life.
A birth, a death, a mystery,
An earnest of eternity,
A truth, a work of charity
Oh, such is life.
A work of patience, hope, and love ;
Our struggle here, our God above ;
With sin to foil, and faith to prove
Oh, such is life.
A glimpse of heaven in rock and wood,
In rivulet and torrent flood,
In temple, tomb, and solitude
Oh, such is life.
From God we came, to Him we go,
Our battlefield the world below,
Our triumphs sin and death and woe
Oh, such is life.
PILGRIM S PROGRESS (p. 69)
Rest, Pilgrim, now the day is past,
Rest, rest in peace ;
The hill s steep brow is gained at last ;
Thy faith is tried, thy hope is fast :
Rest, rest in peace.
The sun s first rays shall smile on thee ;
Rest, rest in peace.
For Love and Hope and Piety
Shall guard thee oh, how tenderly !
Rest, rest in peace.
134 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
So, when thy life-long fight is o er,
Rest, rest in peace ;
Light bringing from the eastern shore,
Thy sun shall dawn, to set no more :
Rest, rest in peace.
The night is dark. No light
Within the veil appeareth.
Vain shadows cheat the sight :
" Speak, Lord : Thy servant heareth."
Day breaks. Against the sky
The soft pale mist upreareth
Bright forms which fade and die :
" Speak, Lord : Thy servant heareth."
Noon burns. The weary soul
Nor past, nor future cheereth ;
Toil failed to win the whole :
" Speak, Lord : Thy servant heareth."
The evening closes. Late
Calm comes, no more he feareth
Who now can rest and wait :
" Speak, Lord : Thy servant heareth."
The following letters selected from my father s corre
spondence of this period are for the most part addressed
to Miss Whittard, but latterly come the earliest letters
written by him to his Cambridge friends and pupils :
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2nd March 1848.
You must not, my dearest Mary, be alarmed at my not writ
ing on a sheet of letter-paper. Necessity they used to tell us
was the parent of invention, and a piece of Plato in our late
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 135
examination said that she was the mother of fate but why
give the noble lady s pedigree ? I am very glad to hear that
you are again nearly well. I cannot form any idea as to how
I did in the examination. I have carefully abstained from
referring to any of my papers.
The French Revolution has been a great object of interest.
I confess to a strong sympathy with the republicans. Their
leaders at least have been distinguished by great zeal and
sincerity. Lamartine, whom I fancy you know by name,
quite wins my admiration. England seems destined to be
the refuge of exiled sovereigns. Charles X. lived at Holyrood,
I think, and now it is said that Louis Philippe (if he be still
alive, which seems doubtful) will reside at Claremont. France
will, I trust, prosper. The ex -king has not a particle of
sympathy from me, for he was a Bourbon at heart, and
Bourbons are by nature tyrants. When we think of all the
misfortunes of France, at times the thought will occur whether
her national irreligion has brought all her evils upon her;
but she never seemed likely to be so prosperous as at present,
if at least the working people can be reduced to order readily.
But I am afraid you will grow tired of this. You do, Marie,
magnify my labours when you give me six pupils a day. I
have only five, and they will come at alternate hours at
present I only have them from time to time. I feel sure that
I shall learn much from my pupils. They will teach me to
express myself clearly. But still withal my thoughts are
wandering homewards, and I shall soon quite realise the time
when in the evening we shall read Pascal together. I have
made such good rules as to what we shall do. I have lately
read again Schiller s William Tell, and I was extremely pleased
with it. I think you know it. I intend to read the
Piccolomini and Wallenstein soon. At present I have not an
Ollendorff, but when you set me an example I will follow it.
I am rather afraid that my chapters are not quite exact ; they
are Luke xix., Phil. iv. to-day.
I never read any of Fox s book. Of old I believe it was
chained with the Bible to the reading desks in churches, and
is at least a very earnest and " stirring " book. It may be
well to read accounts of persecutions, for at the present time
we deem it impossible. And now it is nearly Chapel time ;
136 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and so, my dearest Mary, farewell. May God bless you.
Ever believe me, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, i%th May 1848.
My dearest Mary I was quite surprised, and yet very
much pleased, to receive a note from you dated again from
Bristol, for from your last I quite imagined that you would
be unable to return home for several days. My remarks
about the mosses must consequently have been quite unin
telligible, and my picture, on which I prided myself, useless.
However, we shall resume our investigations soon, I trust.
If I come to Bristol I will certainly carry off my father s
microscope. When I am rich (and how soon that will be !)
I intend to get one. There are, I believe, several brasses
in St. Mary s, Redcliffe, and certainly it will be worth while
to be prepared for many others. The rubbings taken on
black paper look very much better, I think, than the others.
But now, Marie, I must advert to another part of your
note, and I cannot help thinking that your feeling poorly
at present makes you dwell more on such a subject. I
mean, when you say that you feel lonely, nay, worse than
lonely, at church. I know how difficult it is to fully appreciate
the duties of a parish minister, and you can scarcely think
how many thousands there are who need his visits more than
even you would much more than you would as far as he can
see you I mean, to form a judgment; and in endeavouring to
place myself in such a case, I fear (nay, Marie, I believe) that
I should do as Mr. Clifford does. But then as it now is I
know more than he knows, and so should not do so. I
think you will acknowledge the justice of my excuse. If
you could read the statements which I have lately read in
evidence given five years back to Government commissioners
of the frightful grievance of men and children who knew of
no God, no Saviour, no Bible, even by name, in the heart of
our splendid cities, you would, I am sure, admit it. Bad as I
had esteemed the state of our poor to be, yet it is worse
almost than imagination would have pictured it. But to
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 137
leave such a painful topic. I hope we have not yet forgotten
that beautiful chapter in the Rectory of Valehead, when the
old officer relates the source of his consolation when indeed
an "outcast" in the midst of the idolatries of India. Is
there no force in that sublime doctrine which we continually
profess? No "communion of saints"? Do you "remem
ber " ? Do not think that I deny the difficulties and trials
of your position. I merely point out to you the means of
overcoming them. I am but too conscious myself of the
overpowering loneliness which seems then chiefly to weigh
one down when amid a crowd you only seem to have no
interest in their affections, and no part in their business
when all seem active and devoted, and you dare not move,
or tremble at each step. Yet more or less this always must
be so. I never can sympathise with the careless frivolity
which seems too often to conceal any want of pufpose, or
substitute mere connexion in the pursuit of amusement for
union in action. Happy must we be if we can find here and
there gleams of encouragement and hope if the " shadows of
our crosses" fall from time to time on clear and pleasant
paths, on fair and fragrant flowers. Isolation may give the
firmness which we need, solitariness may encourage thought-
fulness, than which no treasure is more precious. Is it not
so, my dearest Mary? Do you not sometimes feel it so?
Farewell to this subject. I am very glad you mentioned it ;
and if you have any fault to find, or observe any deficiency
in my answer, do mention it.
To return to our mosses again. If you find any in fruit
I would get specimens, and enclose me some if you can.
You remember the other promise ? I shall be ready to begin
directly, not having opened OllendorfT since I returned.
Ever, my dearest Mary, " remember." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
BEDDGELERT, zothjuly 1848.
Till your note came, my dearest Mary, I had no notion
that the week was so far spent. Time really seems to flow
faster than the mountain stream in front of our cottage, which
138 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the late rains have swollen into the dignity of a torrent. You
can scarcely imagine what an entire change is produced in
the scenery by a day s rain. Every mountain-side is streaked
by a little streamlet which is almost lost in spray as it dashes
from rock to rock, and the great channel in the pass is quite
filled with a boiling, roaring flood add all the participles
from that quaint address of Southey s to the cataract at
Lodore and the highest rocks seem invested with a new
magnificence by the misty clouds of rain which sweep round
their summits : everything is greater and wilder. There is
no clearly defined horizon. The last hill is partially enwrapped
in clouds, and you feel there is much behind ; while in a clear
view all is at once before you, and the imagination has no
room for its exercise. Such were my impressions when I
walked down to Pont Aberglaslyn in pouring rain yesterday
to admire the scenery ; and as I purchased my pleasure by a
thorough drenching, you may believe me that I am no fictitious
enthusiast.
At present my mosses have received no important additions
-not above eight or ten ; but I find my time is very limited
as I have six pupils and numerous other engagements. What
will you say, Mary, to my refusal to be an editor already ? I
had an offer from Macmillan yesterday to edit a Greek play
for twenty-nine guineas, but of course as I am at present situated
I declined it, hinting that I might at some time be induced to
publish something of Aristotle s, but not yet. . . . You must
tell me what you are reading. I should think you might get
through much. Whenever you send an exercise I will begin
German again. If you could get a dictionary, it would, I fancy,
add vastly to your pleasure. . . . Only may we do as much
as our numberless blessings claim from us ! We will treat
of soul and spirit next time. Ever, my dearest Mary,
" remember." Your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
BEDDGELERT, 2.7 th August 1848.
In reference to your last note, my dearest Mary, it has
occurred to me that we might find it mutually very useful and
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 139
pleasant to discuss a few points connected with our Church.
It is never possible to be too secure or too clear in our views.
There is a far closer connexion between reason and faith
than most persons are ready to acknowledge. To believe
firmly we must know distinctly ; many of the objects of our
faith may be mysteries, but we must at least know they are
such, and we must feel their immensity. This disconnexion
of knowledge and faith, so common in our age, is to be
paralleled by the common excuse given for different men,
" that they act according to their conscience," as if conscience
were as definite a power as one ot our senses, and not to be
trained and enlightened according to the means vouchsafed
to us ; as if a man were not as much answerable for his con
science as for his actions. This is an important distinction,
and particularly to be borne in mind in religious controversy,
where conscience seems to be the final judge appealed to.
But to return from this long digression I think our investi
gations may be well divided into three great divisions (every
thing, you know, naturally becomes threefold) :
I
(1) The Constitution of the ( a. Episcopacy.
Church ( /3. State connexion.
( a. Infant Baptism.
(2) The mes and services of the ^ Confirmation.
( y. Excommunication, etc.
j Developed in the several
(3) The doctrines of the Church - Articles particularly i.,
( vi., ix.-xviii., xxv.-xxxi.
I will mention any objections I may chance to have heard ;
and I shall be obliged if you can add any new ones. . . .
I may remark, in concluding this topic, that in one thing
we have changed from the primitive custom. With us,
Deacons are only imperfect Priests, so to speak the Diacon-
ate is only a step to the Priesthood ; with the early Church it
was otherwise, and soon, I trust, it will be so with us. Before
long, I hope to see an order of men in some degree like the
"local preachers" who, while recognised religious "helps,"
may yet follow their several callings, and be an integral portion
of the people. Such an agency gives greater unity to a
1 40 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
church, and removes the great barrier between clergy and
laity. It is, I believe, to that that the Wesleyan body owes
its widespread influence. Moreover, peculiarly religious
duties become then connected with business, and those not
personal only but social, and so one great step is taken in the
great lesson that we are all " a holy priesthood." Thus much,
then, my dearest Mary, have I to say on the first division of
our subject. Tell me your opinion, and then we will go on to
the next. But ever let us so seek that all may be for God s
glory. And now a Dieu. Ever " remember." Your most
affectionate BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
BIRMINGHAM, i6t/i Sunday after Trinity.
If I do not write a long note this evening, my dearest Mary,
the fault will not be owing to company. I am now left alone
with Lizzie. My father and mother are both gone to my
aunt s, who is much worse indeed, it is a marvel to every one
how she has held out so long. I was with her this afternoon,
and she was more calm and happy than usual. I do not
think I have heard one complaint from her, though her suffer
ings are without cessation ; on the contrary, she only expresses
deep thankfulness for every slight relief. It is impossible
not to regard her long-continued illness as a great mercy, for
now she is entirely weaned from everything. She can see
her children without any strong emotion, and talk of leaving
them with composure. I am extremely glad that I did not
go directly to Cambridge, for, as I have known her so long, it
has been a great pleasure to have been of the slightest use at
such a time, and for my own part I have learned much from
her.
I have often wished that you could have been here for an
hour or so ; for, though I admit such scenes are melancholy,
yet, Mary, you or I should not shrink from them, nor do I
think you would. I intensely dislike mere morbid sentiment,
but illness and suffering, even in others, are powerful teachers.
Do not suppose that I would wish to communicate to our
whole life the atmosphere of a sick-room, or abjure all the
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 141
relaxations of society or the pleasures of nature ; yet I would
not forget the graver side of life. I would not wish to be
unable to minister comfort when comfort is most needed, I
would not forget that we are " men " with exquisite means of
pleasure, but I would still remember that we are " mortals " in
probation for another existence. I am continually misunder
stood when I speak on these subjects, but I hope you don t
mistake me. I am supposed to be gloomy and adverse to
society, whereas quite the reverse is the case. I am very
fond of society, but I trust I do hate the frivolities of society.
I cannot think that they are needed for relaxation, and
I am sure they are useless for pleasure. All that is health
ful and vigorous, all that adds to our energy and awakens
our sympathies, or diverts the mind as a means to new
endeavours, most heartily I would love. Never would I blame
anything that a person pursues as conducive to these ends.
I might differ in opinion, but I would not condemn. This
always reminds me of the great fault of our Church its
unsociability. We are all unconnected very disconnected
there is no unity among the parts in themselves, no concord
in their action on others. But why should this be so ? Why
should " pews " and cushions for ever separate our rich and
poor ? or Sunday be the only assembling day of the congrega
tion ? Why are our communicants unnoticed and unregistered ?
You will easily suggest ten thousand queries, and who shall
answer them ? Does not the chief cause lie in the forgetful-
ness of the declaration that Christians are " a chosen people,
and a royal priesthood," and the consequent little care of
family services, and if of family, much more of social services ?
There is matter for abundant thought in this. May we, my
dearest Mary, much and often reflect on it, and may the Holy
Spirit be our Teacher. Ever "remember." Your most
affectionate BROOKE.
BIRMINGHAM, 2nd October 1848.
. . . You will not say that I am a too partial admirer of
our much -loved Church, but I never could hear such argu
ments as Mr. T. seems to have used without the deepest
142 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
disgust. As if the State gave the Church anything but losses !
As if she derived any superior power from her connexion
with it, and was not rather hampered and shackled by number
less encumbrances ! No fallacy, no falsehood rather, can be
more shamefaced than the assertion that the revenues of the
Church are derived from the State. They are entirely (with
the exception of tithes, and these we may consider at some
other time, and church rates, which are only exacted by the
authority of a majority of the parish) derived from property
left specially to the Church, over which the State has usurped
a power, salutary perhaps, but yet usurped, of control and
direction. The real state of the case is this with regard to
Church property. The State controls ours in virtue of its con
nexion with us, and dissenting bodies control their own. So
much for our advantages. The whole question as to Church
and State we will return to again. My own opinions on that
topic are, I think, likely to be modified. You will remember
that at one time I used to dislike the idea of such a connexion,
but now the observance of the wretched spirit of its opposers,
and of the melancholy character of a negative constitution,
seems to overpower all theoretical objections. My democratic
notions have long since vanished into thin air, and my volun
tary principle, I think, will follow next. " They don t work
well," as Sam Slick said very sensibly. So much I must say
on controversial matters. If I had been speaking, I am sure
you would have seen my colour rise, and I wish you could
have done so.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2nd November 1848.
Is it not sufficient trouble to write notes pardon the word,
my dearest Mary but will you entail on me the penalty of
deciphering my own writing ? . . . The death - scene of
Mirabeau was described by the last " Carlylean " biographer as
"the sublime of deistic belief." You will judge of the appli
cability of the remark when you have read the description. I
am far from being a believer in the ability of popular lectures.
Of course, if young ladies are led to believe that the world
only turns round in theory like Franklin s niece, was it not ?
an orrery is useful enough ; but I cannot help thinking that
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 143
knowledge soonest acquired is least treasured up and remem
bered. I am half inclined to become entirely dissipated, and
spend all my spare time in novel-reading. I am too tired to
do anything in the evenings. How I wish I had a piano, I
MUST get one. All the "graces" which I mentioned in my
last note have passed, and the scene in the Senate House
was very interesting. There were present Guizot and his
family two daughters and a son: the former well-dressed,
intelligent, vicacious, and French ; the latter dirty, uninterest
ing, and vacant. Guizot himself is a very little man perhaps
five feet four. He has a fine brow, generally well developed, short
iron-grey hair, and quick piercing eyes, which in conversation
are, I believe, singularly bright. He wore an old long great
coat ; and I can scarcely imagine any more ludicrous contrast
than that presented by his conducting Mrs. Whewell, who is
a tall, stately, and well-dressed lady, home. He was well
received by the undergraduates, who, if not the most influential,
are the most noisy members of the house on such occasions
and I might perhaps have been carried away myself but for a
resolute determination. . . . Mr. Lee (between ourselves) is
hung up in my rooms under the false signature of J. P.
Manchester, and he proves a considerable ornament. Is not
my note clean, neat, and legible ? I made a new pen on
purpose, and I have not indulged in sentiment ; but if need
be, let me give you advice not to be disheartened. The
wider the field, the more our usefulness. If I could define
life, it would probably be " time usefully spent." Let us " live,"
my dearest Mary. Ever believe me, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, i6th November 1848.
If I begin, my dearest Mary, to think of all I have to do
this evening, farewell to my note. I have already written two
home, for to-morrow is my mother s birthday, and I have sent
her my medal in remembrance of it rather an apt present, I
think. Think you not so ? . . . Is it not cruel that Dr. Owen
should reduce the great sea serpent, which has fed us with
wonder so long, to an ugly seal ? However, he said in a long
I
144 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
letter to the Times the other day that the description and
picture answered to the characteristics of a very large seal,
certainly, he said, it could not be a serpent. For my own part,
I was beginning to believe in the Kraken. When I first
amused myself with reading, a terrible picture of a sea-serpent
devouring a ship s crew made a great impression on me, and
so my prejudices are all in favour of the monster s existence.
Your selection of books, Marie, is far more extensive than
mine. Alison might suggest thoughts, and my only hope is
to find them ready-made. Let us really adhere to our plan.
My diary has of late been sadly neglected, and so has every
thing but my pupils. The term seems very short, or rather
very speedily drawing to a close. How soon we shall, I trust,
once more spend a New Year s day together, if all be well.
Very much has happened since the last.
EDGBASTON, 2Qth December [1848].
I ought, my dearest Mary, to make you a good return for
your very long note with interest, too, if I was acquainted
with all the mysteries of " per-cent," but I am going out this
evening (to Mr. Wickenden s) and Sybil prevented my
good intentions of writing yesterday becoming a fait accompli.
Is not my French improved by novel -reading? A day or
two ago I might have expressed myself in plain English.
Sybil, a kind of supplement to Coningsby^ by Disraeli, is a
very remarkable book ; quite a contrast to Jane JEyre, my
other novel ; deriving all its interest not from the delineation
of individual character, but from the great subject matter,
"the two nations" the rich and the poor. The date
extends from 3 1 to 40, including the Chartist outbreak and
strikes. The plot is marvellous to impossibility, but on the
whole I am very glad I read it, and very sorry I cannot im
part my pleasure to you.
As for Jenny Lind I would not give sixpence to hear her
alone. What possible pleasure could there be in such selfish
ness ? I am sure, my dearest Mary, you don t think I would
go by myself. I hope we may hear the Elijah again together.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 145
Your school agitation immensely amuses me. It is so delight
ful to contemplate you as the leader of a faction, or of an
opposition may I say a constitutional party ?
It is too early, I suppose, to wish you a very happy Christ
mas, for indeed I can scarcely realise the presence of the
holly-crowned, frost-gemmed king ; but I suppose now he will
soon make us adopt his livery, as he forced me to get a scarf
to-day.
EDGBASTON, ityh January 1849.
. . . You have often heard my views of life, yet hear them
once again ; for I should never forgive myself if I were to
mar your happiness by representing my opinions falsely. To
live is not to be gay or idle or restless. Frivolity, inactivity,
and aimlessness seem equally remote from the true idea of
living. I should say that we live only so far as we cultivate
all our faculties, and improve all our advantages for God s
glory. The means of living then will be our own endow
ments, whether of talent or influence ; the aim of living, the
good of men ; the motive of living, the love of God. I do
not say that these ideas are to enter prominently into every
detail of life, any more than that in every movement we must
be distinctly conscious of the vital principle physically ; but
just as this must necessarily exist before we can take one step,
so the whole groundwork of our inner life must be these
feelings to which I have alluded. Every pleasure that rests
on any other basis must be unsatisfactory ; every pain that is
supported by any other prop, overwhelming. We must then
look forward. We must value our earthly blessings as pilgrims
would a fair scene : we must take comfort and refreshment
from them, and then press more vigorously onwards. But
still more, my dearest Mary, " no man liveth to himself."
We should remember the incalculable effects of the most
trifling actions. The fate of thousands will depend on you
and me the fate of thousands to all eternity ! Life is in
deed " real," indeed "earnest," if viewed in this aspect ; and
can we refuse to regard it thus ? I cannot. You cannot, I
am sure. We must then remember that we are beacons
" set on an hill," which, if they give an uncertain light, will
VOL. I L
I
146 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
bring ruin on countless multitudes of harbourless mariners.
I know that it is not customary to see things in so solemn a
light ; yet I wish I could draw a still more impressive picture,
for I continually forget these features of humanity. . . . Do
not be led away by any enthusiasm I may ever have exhibited
on these subjects oh, how incommensurate with what I
have done ! . . . Let us press forward towards that prize
which even the holy Paul did not count himself to have
attained ; which the infant Cyril rejoiced in ; which the aged
Polycarp found in his funeral pyre. How different their
circumstances ! yet their hope was one ; and may not we have
it ? Where can we find a rival motive ? Oh that we could
now know as we are known ; that we could see things as
they really are ; that we could trace the dark lineaments of
sin, and the fair beauties of holiness ! Is not the very mean
ing of the words I have quoted, that in heaven we shall have
no temptation from the vain shadows which here beset us ?
Let us remember that we do not injure ourselves alone by
neglecting a duty, but many a being who, but for our care
lessness, might have shared in endless happiness; that by
our zeal we awaken others from their indifference, and are
allowed to minister to the good of thousands whom we may
rejoice to meet (how earnestly I pray these may be no idle
words !) in heavenly places. Think, my dearest Mary think
most earnestly on these things. Do not regard my deficiencies ;
do not measure my maxims by my deeds ; pray rather that
these latter may be made conformable to what I feel is right.
. . . How desperate would our case be if we could not pray
for one another. This is one of the glorious characteristics
of our holy religion. "Remember," my own dear Mary.
May we take Romans xii. as our guide, and may we be en
abled by God s Spirit in some measure to keep its precepts.
My time is now exhausted, yet I could write volumes ; but
that word " remember " would contain their sum. May
God bless you ! Ever your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 147
TRINITY COLLEGE,
Saturday Evening, 24/6 Febrtiarv 1849.
My dearest Mary I feel inclined to write a line this
evening, and will not you say that it is a strange feeling to
have after n o clock? But I will tell you how it is. At
8 o clock my last pupil left me, and even ordinarily one is
not inclined to work much on Saturday evening, but to-night
a friend, who has taught me more than any one else, called
for me to tea, and I have only just left his rooms. We have
been talking on many great things I was going to say all
great things and when one s mind gets thus excited, what is
more natural than to try to give vent to its feeling where it
will meet with sympathy ? And so sympathy on the greatest
topics was one subject we have been discussing. We were
talking of a clergyman s home, and how hopeless it would
be without there was throughout it a full and deep unity
of purpose and interest. Of the two great aspects of life,
both dangerous in themselves, yet glorious when united.
I mean life as a work "real and earnest," and life as a
mere contemplation of what God has done for us. Of the
dangers of the present day from the growth of an ill-
disciplined spirit of independence in thought and action. Of
the scheme we had proposed for our little work. Of music, of
poetry, of Cambridge, of active duties, of things present and
future. And is it not, then, my dearest Mary, necessary for
me to write at least one line to tell you what I have talked
of and thought on, for this is an enjoyment I have rarely
had this term ? Must not you have been largely interested
in all my views ? And particularly when we were talking of
our first texts, and I referred to i John ii. 1 7 (which I shall
always remember in connexion with the Battie Scholarship),
and my friend suggested that he was afraid my sermons
would be too gloomy, and if my sermons, then much more
my conversation ; and I sometimes think you may fancy so ;
and yet often you tell me that you don t. You ought, Marie,
to tell me what you think. I have often told you my views
of life. You should give me yours. All our thoughts and
wishes and plans must be in sympathy. Let us earnestly pray
148 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
that they may be such as to be completed in heaven ; that
we may be journeying on only to our abiding city ; that all
things here may be only dear to us as we see God in them,
for I don t think we can love men less for loving God more.
TRINITY COLLEGE, gth March 1849.
To H. R. A.,
who complained of the student s life at Cambridge.
Tell me not, though faint and weary,
That the student s lot is pain ;
That his life is dark and dreary,
Toilsome, perilous, and vain.
Dark ! a thousand sights of glory
Beam before his raptured eyes,
Words and deeds still bright in story
Shine along each path he tries.
Dark ! before him ever burning
You may see the lamp of life,
See him ever God-ward turning
Prayerful eyes amid the strife.
Dreary ! with good angels near him
To inspire fresh deeds of love ;
With the voice of God to cheer him,
Nobler works of faith to prove.
Toilsome ! who would count the labour ?
Perilous ! who would fear the end,
If he truly love his neighbour,
If he feel his God his friend ?
Vain ! the student s earnest pages
Kindle never-dying fires.
And his spirit lives for ages
In the deeds his word inspires.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 149
Like some old Cathedral gleaming
In a flood of golden light,
Chequered o er with colours streaming
From the windows richly dight,
So the student s life. Fresh beauty
Flows from every source of truth,
And he feels his solemn duty
Suits the joyous time of youth.
Let us then, on God relying,
Speed on our appointed way,
Ever hoping, ever vying
More to labour and to pray.
TRINITY COLLEGE, i ith March 1849.
My dear Alder May I ask you to keep these lines as a
memorial of one of the pleasantest days I ever spent ? l And
may I not also hope that you will now not only recognise but
participate in the feeling which gave rise to them ? Yours
very affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Oh, tell me not their faith is vain, who dream
Of holy sympathies, and mystic bonds
Of love and worship in all living things,
And things that live not ! While the white-robed choir
Poured forth their hymns of glory, I believe
The birds, who make God s temple their abode,
Thrilled by the sacred harmony, rejoiced
In concert with our joy. Oh, I believe
The very sunshine gleamed with brighter glow
At words of love and mercy, peace and praise !
Their hearts are cold, their love, their sympathy
Lifeless and dull, who think that man s the world :
That there are not below, around, above,
Ten thousand unintelligible sounds
Of gratitude and praise : ten thousand mute,
But holy worshippers, in rocks and stones,
1 A visit to Ely Cathedral.
I
150 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Sunshine and stars, temples and monuments.
I love not man the less, but God the more,
Because I feel this love in all around,
And see in all living and endless praise.
And oh shall I be silent ? Praise and prayer,
The bright reflections of the joys of heaven,
Like the fair colours on yon ruined wall,
Which speak of glories that we cannot see,
Nor even dream of, till the sun reveals
The image of their beauty. I believe,
And joy in thus believing, each fair shaft,
Each sculptured capital, and quaint carved boss,
The fretted vault, and long, plain-timbered roof,
Each bears its part in worship ; that each stone
By some mysterious sense can praise its God.
And oh shall I be silent ? May I live
Worthy of what I feel, worthy of such
Companionship with nature ; may I hear
In every voice God s praise, in every sight
Of beauty see it ; in all works of power,
Of might and majesty ; in trees and rocks,
Mountains and rivulets. Oh, this faith is true,
This truth is love, and love s the life of heaven !
ELY, 2nd Sunday in Lent, 1849.
P.S. I would not alter anything, because I know you
won t look at the lines, but the feeling. For this alone I
give them you. B. F. W.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 24^ March 1849.
My dear Alder You have indeed decided the question of
priority in writing, which occasioned so subtle a discussion
this morning, and the fault is certainly my own, if I am in
want of subject matter. I do not think that I should ever
have required anything to remind me either of yourself or the
many happy hours we have spent together, but I shall not
on that account less value your kind present, because it will
couple both more intimately with that which so often formed
the topic of our friendly controversies. In years to come, if
all be well, I shall, by the help of Coleridge, more vividly
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 151
recall our Sunday rambles down Pont Aberglaslyn, and over
the rocks below the bridge ; and I think you will not smile
at me for any romantic fancies, if I confess that I find my
greatest pleasures in such associations.
I need hardly say that I heartily agree with the whole tenor
of the passage to which you refer ; and I can recognise the
danger in which I frequently stand myself from the feeling to
which he alludes ; and yet I trust that our conversations have
not been without this fruit, that I am so sensible of the peril
that nothing would ever induce me to lead another along the
way I have passed, or to venture on it further myself. But
do you not think that there is an opposite spirit widely
current in the world just now, which would exclude God s
Providence from the operations of Nature, under the Epicurean
delusion that they are too insignificant to merit His attention ?
And as there is much truth, I yet fully believe, in Nature s
teaching, may we not supply her deficiency without abandon
ing her help? May we not fit her fair carved work and
many-coloured pictures into the solid fabric of our simple
faith ? I ask really in doubt. I am not at all sure that this
may not be wisdom falsely so-called, though St. Paul declares
that God is not without witness in the natural world. My
only wish was to rescue, as far as we each may in our little
circle, the claims on human sympathy which form the chief
attraction of the school of Carlyle, from a necessary con
nexion with scepticism. I wanted to unite a vivid pleasure in
Nature with a faithful worship of her God. I was anxious to
read both books, as Keble calls them, and not indeed to close
either. I have sometimes thought that you incline to neglect
one as much as I am in danger, though not inclined, of
neglecting the other ; and I am sure that you would entirely
sympathise with my pleasure from this auxiliary source, if you
would only suffer yourself to approach it.
You have been kind enough to make yourself the keeper
of my " poetical " conscience, and I am not afraid that you
will accuse me of any unworthy feeling if I send you a few
lines I scribbled the other day, which are in some measure a
correction, or explanation, of my former feelings. I only send
them because I could not now express my meaning so well
in other words, for I cannot long retain an impression, nor yet
152 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
recall it. I wished to indicate that we feel as intense a
pleasure from the discharge of the meanest duty to our fellow-
men as from the contemplation of the most beautiful scenes,
or rather that this active exercise of Christian charity is
indeed the only true source of all real enjoyment of nature
or art. The lines were partly written while walking from the
Mendicity one starlit night, so you will see that if so trifling a
service could give me pleasure, I shall not underrate the dis
charge of our active duties. How earnestly I wish we may
truly and sincerely discharge them.
I will not offer you any formal thanks, but I am sure
that you will not think I feel the less on this account. Ever
believe me, my dear Alder, yours most affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
When our human heart is swelling
With a sympathy divine,
When a still small voice is telling,
God s own whisper, " Thou art Mine " ;
When we feel a fresh communion,
Such as when the earth began,
Linking in a holy union
Earth with heaven, and God with man ;
When each tree and leaf and flower,
Earth s fair fields and starry cope,
Seem by some mysterious power
Fraught with messages of hope,
Love can tell the torrents voices,
And the whispers of the breeze,
How each rolling star rejoices
With celestial harmonies.
Deeper echoes, while she listens,
Answer from her heart s recess,
And the very wave that glistens
Seems to share her blessedness.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 153
And she knows whene er the wildest
Storms of sin and sorrow rise,
That the darkest clouds shine mildest,
Sunlit, in the western skies.
Calmly then in peace reposing
Peace the fruit of active life,
May we live, not idly dozing,
Nor amid ambition s strife.
May we seek no gaud of glory,
May we fear no lip of scorn ;
Till we die not famed in story,
But from earth to heaven upborne.
To Miss WHITTARD
TRINITY COLLEGE, 22nd April [1849].
. . . L - is amusing ; but it is a good thing that no
one can imprison us for smiling. If he has roused your
indignation so far as to make you practise more, I shall
regard him in the light of a benefactor. I am sure you
would now find the time well spent in doing so, for when once
one sees the meaning and feels it, then it is that practising
is really serviceable at least, I think so. The little voluntary
of Mozart s is taken from his First Mass, so that it is quite
grave enough for me ; but at the same time I am learning an
air and variations ! The latter I confess is not so palatable,
but then it is livelier. My bed-maker will soon, I trust, grow
accustomed to my eccentricities ; at present I can often see
her steal a glance at my desperate efforts to educe the tune
from the notes. . . . Tell me when we shall begin Schiller
again, and then nothing must interrupt it. I have finished
Macaulay. He remains the same to the end : very brilliant,
very lively, very readable, but there does not seem to be in
him either true philosophy or true religion indeed, the one
implies the other. A perfect historian, like a perfect poet,
should, I think, be a man eminently religious, or how can he
trace the deepest meaning of things ? Think you not so, my
154 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
dearest Mary ? But this is a wide field for discussion yet a
very interesting one. I wish we could grow to view all things
more religiously to make other days as Sundays, and not
Sundays as other days. Let us strive more and more to
do so. Ever "remember," my dearest Mary. Your most
affectionate BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Give lots of love to everybody as much as you can spare.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2.yh April 1849.
I should very much like to know, my dearest Mary, who
taught you bird language? I am afraid he was not very
skilful in his profession. I will tell you what my little bird
said : that if you were not reminded, our German would be
forgotten. Did the little bird say true, Marie? I have the
Musical Library now, so that I will learn two or three pieces.
Let me hear your choice. I have begun, as you recommended,
with "The Blacksmith." What shall I try next? See how
restless I am. To see me practising is one of the most amusing
sights in the world. I play a few bars, and then run on to
something else, and so on ad infinitum^ as the mathematicians
say. ... I have put my ferns under glass covers, and they
are thriving wonderfully. They have only been covered up
two days, and their advance has been quite marvellous. . . .
The weather at length seems inclined to be fair again, and if
it does really prove so, I don t know what will become of me.
I can t work when I am not obliged. One of my pupils was
first in Classics in the Trinity Scholarship Exam. Shall I not
reap laurels soon ? If my Ashby visitors come, they must be
here soon, and yet the leaves have not attired the avenues in
their proper beauty. Your papa says you are to come up
next October, so that the stipulation about the Fellowship is
not needed. Shall we not look forward to the period ? What
sights ! what pleasures ! . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, \st May [1849].
... I am now in active training for my Swiss tour. To
day I pulled on the river for more than an hour, and I intend
to continue the exercise zealously. Shall I explain the opinion
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 155
I stated in my last note ? When I spoke of a future state in
reference to the Jews, I only meant to say that their revelation
gave them no direct assurances : I don t suppose it possible
that any pious man at any time could have been really deficient
of the idea, though I equally firmly believe that the Christian
alone is assured of it. The Jew might find much in his
Scriptures which might encourage the hope which existed
independently, and not derived from them as in the instance
our Lord quotes in the Gospels. But then, as far as he could
show, he had no obvious proof. Christianity and our Lord s
resurrection "brought life and immortality to light." Many,
very many don t agree with me. I believe a Professor of
Divinity, a precise theologian, said that the sermon was
heresy ! Heresy ! why, the word will soon be synonymous
with sobriety and independence of thought. Do you under
stand me ? Of course, I would only speak with great
diffidence, but I really think we can thus see the inestimable
advantages of Christianity more clearly. ... I will not
trouble you with any more philosophy or morality, if you
will confess that you do like it. My Muse is sulky and
indisposed still, and it is not my nature to coax ; so she must
wait till she grows better-tempered. I am glad that you like
the last verses. They are more original, I fancy, than the
others, and old Aristotle used to say that poets and parents
loved their own children excessively.
You cannot fancy how musical we were last night. Two
friends came and sang for three hours. I felt the proudest
being alive, as you may imagine. My practising has fallen
off the last two days. I am going to begin Schiller s Ballads
to-night. When shall we resume William Tell? To-day I
was planning part of our tour. It included all the localities
mentioned in the play. We shall, I hope, stay a day or two at
Luzern (why did I affect the foreign spelling ? pardon me),
and see the Wetterhorn and the Jungfrau, and TelFs chapel,
and the field of Sempach, where Arnold of Winkelried died so
bravely, and the hollow way where Gessler was shot, and rocks
and avalanches and storms, I hope but at a distance. I dare
not hope to see you before October. However, the time will
soon pass, and we shall both, I hope, be very busy listening to
Nature as well as books ; for after all she is the great teacher,
156 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and her lessons may be had for looking for them even in the
dullest place or gloomiest day. But we will not look for them
too often and then again they seem to overwhelm us. I
know no sensation like the kind of swelling which one feels
on a really sunshiny day. You seem as if you could fly, but
that it would be a pity to leave the green earth.
TRINITY COLLEGE, I jth May.
. . . This evening, if I have time, I will try to do some
Schiller, and enclose it. I have lately been reading his Life ;
but it was by Bulwer or Lytton, as he now calls himself and
though there is much in him to admire, I confess I have not
found my ideal poet. He considered, truly enough, that poetry
was a work and a duty, and a training for others, but he was
not, I fear, a simple Christian ; I mean, a Christian of the New
Testament, quite distinct from sectarian Christianity. I can t
make out that he admitted that which makes Christianity
what it is, the notion of a mediator. Yet even thus he
expounds much poetic truth, and even Wordsworth does not
dwell on Christian doctrine ; but THE Christian poet is yet to
be seen, for I never will accord Milton the name. It is
strange that there has been no great Romanist poet. Why
not, when the papal system admits every addition of art, and
encourages every kind of symbolism and mystic interpretation ?
Can it be that she loves neither simplicity nor freedom ? I will
not say truth. Have I not suggested to you an ample subject
for thought ? I went on the river to-day in spite of the rain,
and I felt it do me good, but it was almost a penance ; I was
the solitary spectacle. I have Mendelssohn s Six Pieces. There
is a very pretty andante in them ; the others are so so. You
may guess they are not very difficult, for I can murder them.
At present I am seriously thinking of learning to sing. I
should above all things like to manage a glee or any part
music. But this is another of my airy schemes. The future
must speak for it.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 22 nd May 1849.
You certainly have fair claims, my dearest Mary, for a long
note, but I am not sure that I can write one, though I went
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 157
out to look at the trees in order to get ideas. We have had
a very wet morning, but the afternoon was very bright and
blue, and so the chestnut trees have put out their long spikes
of flowers, and the limes have assumed their fairest green,
while there is still just enough of their black trunks left visible
to form a contrast. Yet though the limes were green, and
the chestnuts very grand with their massy foliage, and the
river deep and broad, and rapid with its swollen stream, my
ideas would not flow fully or gracefully, and I am cast again
on my natural resources. ... I confess that at times I feel
utterly lonely and friendless. I have never yet found any one
who could quite share my doubts, and there is no one to
whom I would teach them; and then but what then?
As for those who, as you say, seem to think it their whole
life s business to talk about opinions, I can only say, that if
Christianity is not a work in truth and earnest, I don t know
what it is. People think if it be not absurd to call such
vanity thinking that Christianity is a name, Faith a word,
and forget that it is dead unless accompanied by "ITS works,"
as the last verse of James ii. should be translated. What a
miserable mistake this is ; and what miserable results it works
the poverty and wretchedness and vice of millions testify ; and
not less loudly the emptiness and idleness and luxury of those
whose name is rich, though indeed poorest of the poor in all
which constitutes true wealth. Don t call me a democrat or
republican or socialist for saying all this, my dearest Mary ; I
am nothing of the kind. I don t believe we can ever much
improve, but at any rate let us not deceive ourselves ; let us
remember that WE have to live, if all around us are sleeping ;
and let us, moreover, remember, which too many of those who
teach this doctrine forget, Carlyle among them, that the New
Testament will help us to live so, and NOTHING ELSE. We
cannot be " heroes " unless God s Spirit works with us. Then
let us ever more and more seek it for ourselves, and for one
another. Let us realise the great idea that "work is worship"
Laborare est orare, as the old monk said ; that is, all work done
in an earnest and prayerful spirit. Whatever our work may
be, it can be done holily and piously. May we do all our
duties not for praise or reward, but because they are our
duties. Oh, my dearest Mary, how I wish I could write this
I
158 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
not on paper but on my own heart ! You see, Marie, my
resources are of the old kind the words are of the old sort ;
but even if I do repeat myself, it is well at times, I think, for
the past is often forgotten. But now, my own dearest Marie,
farewell. Ever your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2$th May.
My dearest Mary You want now, I fancy, to be cheered as
much as I did a week ago, if you " have no hope " but I
don t think you used the words seriously. You are still full of
hope are you not, only sometimes tired ? I feel very much
more vigorous myself than I have for some time. Yesterday
I talked out all my fancies, and when seriously examined they
are not so very monstrous, practically I trust not. At times
I seize one idea and work it out in all its consequences,
without regarding how much it is modified by other points.
Others, I fancy, are guilty of the same error, and from such
distortions of particular truths the worst sectarianism springs.
I may yet be a minister of our own Church, which at times
seems to me almost impossible ; not because I hold opinions
different from hundreds who are, but because I think they
don t consider points which they should ; though, again, I
am now inclined to think that one should sacrifice one s
own judgment and opinion if one feels that one may be
practically useful, and our Church does offer a glorious field
just now.
My notions about my little book are still notions. I
have so many works to be done that I almost despair of
accomplishing all, though Switzerland will fill me, I am sure,
with marvellous vigour. I am so bent on going that I would
even go by myself now. I must see the mountains and the
glaciers. What will you say to me for reading Carlyle ? Will
you quite despair ? I don t think that I am likely to become
too enthusiastic, though there is much in him which I like.
Is it not right to learn even from a foe, as an old Latin
proverb says? I know some persons think they flourish
better in the dark as my Hymenophyllum does, for instance :
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 159
I have been obliged to blacken its glass but for my own
part I prefer Ajax prayer, which you remember Keble
quotes. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, 26th May 1849.
... I am in very good spirits for my journey at present,
and I have a most magnificent pair of shoes so vast that my
friends can scarcely see me in them ; and when duly accoutred
in blouse, knapsack, and alpenstock, I am pretty sure they
would not " know " me. . . . When shall " we two " see the
mountains ? How delighted we shall be to see them together.
But what air-castle building ! If we could only live really, the
veriest round chalk hill would be delightful, for after all Nature
must first receive the impress of our own feelings before she
affects us. Byron and Wordsworth could not hear her speak
the same language. I have been indulging this evening in
some of my old revolutionary talk about society : grumbling,
complaining as usual ; I wish I could say, doing better, i.e.
proposing remedies or acting them ; and saddest of all, have
been libelling ladies. . . .
Whitsunday. We have had a very pleasant day, my dearest
Mary, and should not the anniversary of such a season be
always pleasant ? Of all days it most affects us now : I mean,
we all continually need the fresh coming of the Spirit. We
had a sermon in Chapel on a verse of the 8th Romans,
and I read over the chapter carefully. It seems to me
more and more magnificent when compared either with what
the wisest have written, or still more with our own inmost
hearts. Is there not intimated in that a mysterious union
between man and creation (so "creature" in v. 19 should
be translated) ? and would not that alone change the whole
face of nature to a Christian ? We don t look earnestly or
often enough for our points of connexion with all around
us things or persons and yet isolation is death. You see,
my dearest Mary, I am striving to prepare myself for seeing
rightly and I wish it were a principle and not a mere
emotion ; and yet " by hope we are saved," and hope is of the
nature of an emotion, and emotions lead to actions ; so may
mine I am altogether hopeful to-day. . . ,
160 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
TRINITY COLLEGE,
10th Sunday after Trinity, 1849.
My dearest Mary I quite forget whether we have ever
talked upon the subject alluded to in my last note Baptismal
Regeneration but I think we have, for it is one of the few
points on which I have clear views, and which is, I am sure,
more misunderstood and misrepresented than any other. Do
not we see that God generally employs means, I will not
say exclusively ; that He has appointed an outward Church
as the receptacle of His promises, and outward rites for ad
mission into it, and thus for being placed in a relation with
Him by which we may receive His further grace ; for till we
are so connected by admission into His outward Church, we
have no right to think that He will convey to us the benefits
of His spiritual Church, when we have neglected the primary
means which He provides. It does not, of course, follow that
the outward and spiritual churches are coextensive, that all
who have been placed in relation with God by Baptism, and
so made heirs of heaven conditionally, will avail themselves of
that relation to fulfil those conditions and here lies the
ambiguity ; because a child is born again into the Church of
God, as he has been born into the world before, people seem
to conclude that he must discharge all the duties of his new
station, which in temporal matters we know he does not. By
birth he may, if he will, truly live here ; by baptism he may,
if he will, truly live for ever. I do not say that Baptism is
absolutely necessary, though from the words of Scripture I can
see no exception, but I do think we have no right to exclaim
against the idea of the commencement of a spiritual life,
conditionally from Baptism, any more than we have to deny
the commencement of a moral life from birth. . . . You
quite misunderstood my scruples about Articles ; it is that I
object to them altogether, and not to any particular doctrines :
I have at times fancied that it is presumptuous in us to attempt
to define, and to determine what Scripture has not defined ; to
limit when Scripture has placed no boundary ; to exact what
the Apostles did not require ; to preach explicitly what they
applied practically. The whole tenor of Scripture seems to
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 161
me opposed to all dogmatism, and full of all application ;
to furnish us with rules of life, and not food for reason ; but
perhaps I carried this idea too far, for as men will reason, it
may be necessary to erect landmarks and prescribe bounds.
I only wish men would pay more attention to acting and less
to dogmatising. You will now understand my whole meaning.
It is not perhaps very serious, but like all other ideas it grows,
and I doubt whether I may not be in danger of yielding more
to my hopes and prospects than they can demand even my
convictions of simple, truthful Christianity. Yet, my dearest
Mary, ever " remember," and then we cannot go wrong. . . .
TO F. W. WlCKENDEN, ESQ.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2nd August 1849.
My dear Wickenden Will you receive a note from me in
patience now ? At any rate, hear my explanation. I did not
return to Cambridge till long after Commemoration, and I
found a letter from Moorsom with yours, saying that you had
started for Ireland ; and my spirit of loyalty, which you know
is very intense, would not suffer me to hold any communica
tion with a rebel country, so that I could not write till I heard
that you were once more in a situation where you might sing
" the king shall have his own again," without collecting a mob
of riband-men or orange-men. . . .
To F. J. A. HORT, ESQ.
TRINITY COLLEGE, $tA October [1849].
Dear Sir I cannot at present say quite definitely that
I shall be in Cambridge between the Triposes, but I think
it most probable. In that case it will give me very great
pleasure to read with you. Perhaps this answer will be
sufficient till I see you here. Believe me, yours very sin
cerely, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
VOL. I M
1 62 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To Miss WHITTARD
TRINITY COLLEGE, $th May [1850].
... I do not think that any allegories can equal those of
Adams. For my own part, I prefer The Shadow of the Cross
and The Old Man s Home to the other two. The King s
Messengers seems too formal, except in the one beautiful idea
which the name contains. The whole course of the story
excepting the beautiful description of Sophron s death is
too much after the usual course to strike one; and then, above
all, I must confess that I read it directly after The Old Man s
Jfome, which all but called forth my tears, hard-hearted though
I am
TRINITY COLLEGE, i$th May 1850.
My dearest Mary
As you blamed my Muse
For saucy messages last time, yet choose
To make an explanation, now she sends
Her gracious pardon, and as some amends
Would add a rhyming letter ; but I know
The lady s temper : how she loves to show
Her little airs right daintily, and tries
By turns to please and triumph. In her lies
The sum of all our vanity, and yet
Fancy and feeling too should serve to whet
The mind for noble struggles. There s a tale
You may remember still our memories fail
Told by Herodotus a moral too
Hangs to the story. Hark ! I ll tell it you.
There was a king in Egypt, who of old
Had been a common citizen, but bold,
Skilful, and resolute, he gained the throne
And ruled with sovran sway ; each day alone
He sat in awful majesty till noon,
Dispensing laws and justice. But how soon
The scene is changed ! a festive banquet now
Succeeds to solemn pageant. Look ! each brow
Is crowned with garlands, and each hand extends
The sparkling cup lamps glitter incense sends
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 163
Its reeking steam aloft the voice of song
And mirth and revelry echoes along
The royal halls. Rude jest and ready wit
Pass to and fro ; the royal troubles sit,
Or seem to sit, most lightly on the king.
But all at once, within the noisy ring,
A bearded sage appears. With sad surprise
He looks on each gay face ; then sternly cries :
" Is this the due of royalty ? the state
Of lordly minds ? Methinks an evil fate
First changed a peasant to a king, and then]
Hath changed the king into a clown again."
He spoke ; and where he looked for wrath, a smile
Kindled the monarch s eye, who, all the while
Most mildly courteous, to the sage replied :
" My father, reverend stranger, when he died
Gave me a bow his only legacy
And as he gave it, thus he spoke to me :
* My son, be wise, this bow will serve thee long ;
But seek not thou to keep it ever strung. "
So ends my story, and at length my rhyme
Shall turn to prose you laugh and say, " Tis time."
You may account how you can for the above strange
vagary ; I am not in high spirits ; it has not been a fine day ;
I have not been particularly pleased with anything. Your
message suggested a merry answer, and the old story occurred
to me one not to be forgotten at Cambridge. But how can
" things " remember or forget ? I will prove my personality
to you in very truth when you come to Cambridge, if you call
me a thing forsooth ! . . .
EDGBASTON, ithjuly [1850].
. . . Yesterday, as we intended, we went to the Corn
Exchange to hear Dr. Newman. By great persuasion I
induced my papa to exceed his customary sixpence for amuse
ment (?), and we were in the front ranks. My curiosity was,
of course, intense, and the appearance of the lecturer served
to increase it. He looks younger, more intellectual, but far
less " pious " than I expected. He has no trace of feeling
in his countenance, no mark of intense devotion. He made
I
1 64 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
a long discourse on tradition, proving that Protestants judge
of Romanism by tradition. All this was subtle and clever,
but did not tell. Then came some clever, witty jokes, utterly
irreverent, utterly unbecoming a Christian minister. The
people applauded, and I felt my fears allayed. He seemed
to enjoy the wit himself, and yet he must have known that
sneers are not arguments. I was grieved greatly grieved
to see no mark of respect, no indication of sympathy with
the Church in which he so long ministered. His mere
rhetorical power is greater than I anticipated ; his power of
argument less; his capability of widely influencing English
people, I think, absolutely nothing. There is none of that
insinuating scepticism about him which I fancied there might
have been ; none of that determined enthusiasm which I felt
sure there would be ; and shorn of these two influences we
need not fear him. ,
To J. B. LIGHTFOOT, ESQ.
TRINITY COLLEGE, Tuesday.
My dear Lightfoot If your powers of mathematical
calculation are to be judged by the specimen you have given
me this morning, there is no hope for you you must be
plucked. 1 You have produced a result exactly double of the
true one. However, even if you are plucked, it will always
be to me a great pleasure that I had you for a pupil. Ever
yours most sincerely, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To E. W. BENSON, ESQ.
ARROCHAR, GLASGOW, 22nd August [1850],
My dear Benson Your packet did not come soon enough
to save you from certain mental vituperations which might
have been severer at any other place than Arrochar, which
does not leave room for unpleasant thoughts ; but when it
came, how could I complain longer? I am delighted to
hear that you are in such good hands, and delighted that
1 My father regarded]". B. L. s fee for tuition as excessive. At one
time he declined to receive any fee from E. W. B.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 165
our College numbers Mr. Martin among its Fellows. Was
it by his advice that you commenced Analytical Conies?
Surely you will not make anything of the subject by yourself,
nor should I think it advisable for you to read it. Did you
not resolve to take the easier subjects Hydrostatics and
Optics in Goodwin? Those you will find intelligible and
interesting. At the same time, it would be well to freshen
your recollection of Newton and mechanics by simple ex
amples. I should most strongly recommend you to take this
plan ; but if Mr. Martin thinks otherwise, I should like to hear
from you again.
You will not readily gain my pardon for certain unnatural
calumnies against the Stagirite. When you read him many
times I mean any one book of his you may be permitted
to compare him with his "rival," but till that time the
Pythagorean law should be observed. I shall hand you
over to Lightfoot for condign punishment ; he will, I am
sure, execute it with just severity. Have you dared to com
plain to him ?
Scotland has hitherto given me exceeding delight. The
boundless ranges of mountains sufficiently distinguish the
scenery from that of Wales, and their grassy slopes from that
of Switzerland, so that I do not find any loss of pleasure
from former experiences. A little snow is now lying on the
hills opposite, though they are of no great height, and our
effeminacy is shown by having fires.
Remember me to all our common friends. What is
Hutchinson doing ? I should be glad to hear from Whittard
or Lightfoot, though it is difficult to promise an answer.
Ever, my dear Benson, yours very sincerely,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
May I trouble you with a commission ? If so, will you
ask Macmillan to send me a copy of Credner s Einleitung in
das Neue Test, by post, if he can procure it.
EDGBASTON, $th October [1850].
My dear Benson If your composition had been in less
able hands, your note would not have remained unanswered
1 66 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
so long, but as I have received no further detachments, I
must write to explain my long silence. I reached home
yesterday, after a very pleasant vacation, with the very highest
admiration for Scotch scenery and for Scott s novels, and
it is quite impossible to enjoy either the one or the other
thoroughly without a long residence in the country. Work
has progressed favourably, though I have done very little
myself, except gather strength for the future. But this is no
light thing at present. I am now looking forward to work
next term with great pleasure, and I trust your mathematics
will be in a state to undergo divers examination papers in a
certain little room under episcopal surveillance, 1 and your
mind in a more congenial state to enjoy the waste beauties
of the Stagirite for I trust your heresy has been repressed
by Lightfoot s cane.
Excuse my hurried note, and ever believe me, my dear
Benson, yours most sincerely,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To Miss WHITTARD
TRINITY COLLEGE, 23^ October [1850].
... I made my debut as a singer yesterday. My master
proceeded with me in the following original way. i. "Just
sing the scale that I may see what your voice is." I obey.
2. "It s a tenor. Well; now try this song from the Messiah,
while I play it." I obey. 3. " Now play it while I sing."
Still I obey. 4. "Well, I think we shall go on successfully;
and you must get some piano duets from the library that we
may play them together ; and you must learn these two songs
by Saturday." This is rather severe work, and I am quite
at a loss, but still I must work patiently. It gives me con
fidence to have a teacher, and moreover makes me careful.
He says that playing is everything. Play carefully, and with
patience you will sing creditably this is the sum of my
teaching. . . .
1 Bishop Prince Lee s portrait.
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 167
(On his Ordination as Deacon)
MANCHESTER, Trinity Sunday , 1851.
This morning, my dearest Mary, as I hoped, I was
ordained Deacon. In this the great work of my life is
begun, and so in part of your life too, and may we both be
enabled to discharge it with all zeal and diligence and love,
" to the glory of God s name and the edification of His
Church." Silence at such a time is perhaps better than
many words silent, earnest, effectual prayer. Henceforth I
and you with me, for our lives must be one are pledged
to be, as far as in me lieth, " a wholesome example to the
flock of Christ." Who could undertake such a pledge save
with such promises as the Gospel gives us ? I wonder how any
dare to teach but in the strength of those assurances of divine
help which have been granted to our weakness. The begin
nings of all new works are most important habits grow from
very small causes ; and so, my dearest Mary, pray for me now
most earnestly, that I may be enabled to begin my duties,
whatever they may be, in a right and truthful spirit, even as
I would end them. ... It was my privilege to take part in
the service, as I was appointed by the Bishop to read the
Gospel. It was a new and yet a natural feeling to stand
within the communion rails and speak to a congregation.
Now I shall feel quite ready to write a sermon ; hitherto it
has seemed to be a voluntary intrusion on rights which
belonged not to me. I do not see any reason to change the
text which I chose years ago for my first effort i John ii.
1 7. Can you suggest to me any better ? Should you prefer
Rom. xii. i ? l
(On his Ordination as Priest)
BOLTON, list December 1851.
. . . The day has been full of excitement to me, and yet,
as it seemed, in the words of the first Lesson, full of " quiet
ness and peace " as the source of strength. I am glad that
1 As a matter of fact, Rom. xii. i was the text of my father s first sermon,
and he used to declare that it contained all that he had since preached.
168 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
it was St. Thomas Day too, for the Collect is very beautiful.
Oh, Mary, I cannot tell you how I felt when I received the
commission of my office. When the hands of the Bishop
and the priests were resting on my head, I felt as I cannot
feel again. It seemed like a fire kindled within me, and
indeed may it be a fire, ever burning clearer and brighter !
It will need to be fanned often ; and may I never quench it !
Thus I speak to you, my dearest Mary, for why should I have
a thought which you do not share ? I trust I have a mission
to discharge. I trust that I shall have strength to discharge
it. You too share my work, and so, as I pray for myself, I
pray for you. . . .
TO F. W. WlCKENDEN, ESQ.
TRINITY COLLEGE, igth November 1851.
My dear Wickenden There is an old proverb, I think,
to the effect " bis dat qui cito dat," and do you think that a
speedy answer will seem of double length or at least of
double substance ? . . . You now suggest a topic sufficiently
extensive, but I am not competent to give a general answer,
yet on the whole the charge pleased me. Its tone and
language and statements were far more moderate than my
fears had anticipated. Even seems at a loss for
any obviously vulnerable point, and is obliged to regard
the Bishop of Manchester as a new "type" of "latitudin-
arian " Episcopacy. There seem to be some errors in detail
e.g. as to the Scotch Church which will not surprise those
who know that the Bishop s strength lies elsewhere than in
particulars ; but I rejoice to see the position which he assigns
to the Occasional services and Offertory, and to notice the
earnestness with which he seeks to restore an outward social
vitality to our Church. You ask me about the title "Rev."
Even as I accord the title " Christian " to all who claim it,
if they do not directly deny in practice the profession which
they make, so should I give the title "Rev." to all recognised
religious teachers to a Rabbi, an Iman, or even to as un
certain a lecturer as E. Dawson, if he desired it. I do not
think that we pledge ourselves to the recognition of his
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 169
office personally, but merely to the acknowledgment of his
social style. If a person seems to need the addition " Esq.,"
if even he only expects it, I so address him ; no one indeed
supposes that my judgment rests on any better grounds than
courtesy. In this way I find no difficulty about the title
"Rev." The term itself is rather literary than theological,
and was certainly given (I believe) to the Bar. As for the
wider question of foreign Orders (which I do not, you will
see, in any way connect with the title " Rev."), I think that
there is great truth in what the Bishop says. We may say
that non- episcopal churches are maimed, armless, heartless,
if you please, but still I can see no ground to conclude that
they are headless, lifeless. Their energy may be curtailed,
their inter-communication may be broken, their circulation
may be sluggish, but, as far as I can judge by their fruits ,
they still live. In saying this I do not imply that the Church
of England recognises foreign (Presbyterian) ordination as
adequate for ministration in her services. . . .
To J. B. LIGHTFOOT, ESQ.
BOLTON, i8M December 1851.
My dear Lightfoot Many, many thanks for your kind
note and testimonial, which I shall keep among my most
valued treasures. Whatever may be my future fortunes
and my future work, I shall always look back on my years
of " pupilising " at Cambridge with the most intense satis
faction. I do not think that any one can have ever had the
same delight which I had in similar work, or a like reward to
that which I have found in the friendship of all my pupils.
This, I trust, I may always retain when we are scattered far
and wide, each doing our own proper work hopefully and
faithfully. Your last words I have long been accustomed to
sum up in the one word " remember." Whether Charles I.
interpreted it as I do, I do not know, but I think that the
word is nobly used in my sense. Let me then in turn ask
you to "remember," especially at this time, yours very affec
tionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
i;o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To E. W. BENSON, ESQ.
KINGSDOWN, BRISTOL, ipth December [1851].
My dear Benson Let me give you, and through you all
my Cambridge friends, my most hearty thanks for the testi
monial which I received this morning. If I were an elector
it would have more influence with me than any other. You
have, indeed, said so much, so very much, that I can rightly
use the picture you have drawn for a model, if not for ; a
portrait, for you have described me as I wish to be, and so I
trust to realise your language more and more, as I am enabled
to gain fresh energy and zeal and patience in coming time.
My best wish for those of you who will work at Cambridge,
as I have worked hitherto, will be, that you may first meet
with pupils such as I have found ; my best wish for all, that
you may have at some time such friends as I have may I
not say so ? in my pupils.
The fewest words are, I think, the best to express thanks,
or rather, to indicate the feeling which cannot be expressed ;
and I will not trouble you with more sentences to profess
what I hope may be seen in other ways ; and you will, I
know from all you say, willingly believe that I am most
sensible and most mindful of the kindness of you all.
With the best wishes, I am, my dear Benson, yours very
affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To F. J. A. HORT, ESQ.
January 1852.
With regard to 2 Thess. ii., as far as I can gather from
your note, you have come to the same conclusion which I
reached: that the doctrine of a " double- sense " applies as
truly to New Testament prophecies as to those of the Old
Testament, and so maintain that the Apostle takes the great
anti-Christian features of the Roman Empire as far as they were
spiritually symbolical. My notion of a prophet is that he is
a "seer" not an organ. The construction seems to me
extremely difficult. I hardly know what view you can take
in CAMBRIDGE: GRADUATE LIFE 171
which some commentator has not taken ; but I shall be glad
to learn what it is. A large " query " is all which I have
yet appended to the verse. My instinct and it is but an
instinct leads me to assent to Olshausen s view of an in
carnation of evil. Speaking of this, I am reminded of an
effort I made to get a special subject for the Maitland Prize
" The Doctrinal Relation of Buddhism to Christianity "
which involves most nearly the idea of a Satanic counter-
incarnation \ but the Vice - Chancellor thought it was too
special, and the result is, I believe, that he requires an essay
on " The Duty and Policy of Christian Missions," which is
certainly wide enough. I wish our theses gave some scope
for definite investigation, as in the botanical " monograms,"
for as long as we encourage commonplace, what else can we
expect ?
You must never ask me for news I never know any ; and
pray do not tell me that your notes are dull, or I shall never
have courage to answer them. For my own part, I should
have had but little patience with a H. Walpole for my corre
spondent. If I could find time I should like to answer your
letter by coming over to Chepstow for an hour or two, but
that will be impossible now, though a day s sunshine seems to
make one believe i n anything. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To E. W. BENSON, ESQ.
HARROW, Sf/t March 1852.
My dear Benson The sight of your handwriting, even if
it were examination -like, was a great pleasure to me; for I
had long been anxious to hear more of you than I could
learn from Scott. But how shabby a return I shall make you !
Here note-writing follows of necessity after a mid-day dinner,
and is followed by an afternoon school ; so that physicians
may delight in the prospective results. Yet I feel that it is
good for me to be here. The place teaches me much which
Cambridge could not teach, and which we must all learn. If
I go to Jersey, the experience will be invaluable ; and if not,
i;2 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP, m
I have found a place where I can work with equal usefulness.
Dr. Vaughan offered me a mastership soon after I came, and"
I think I shall accept it provisionally in default of Jersey.
You will thus see that I am not very anxious about the latter
place, though I should certainly prefer it. I do not think
that I could trouble Dr. Vaughan for a testimonial. The
"administrators" must be content with what they know
already, without they inquire for themselves. It does not
seem that I can interfere further. Do you not agree with me ?
For the Tripos list I shall look most anxiously. As for
fears, they are always urgent. May you secure all you wish
all which will help most in the great after -work of life.
Pardon my hurry, and ever believe me, yours very affec
tionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Can you come to Harrow? I can offer you hospitality
by night, if not company by day. Do come if you are at all
inclined.
CHAPTER IV
HARROW
1852-1861
MY father s first residence at Harrow was a little house
opposite to the gates of The Park. Here he was
settled early in 1852, busily occupied with his school
duties, which were mainly concerned with the com
position of the Sixth Form, which Form he also from
time to time took in class. He found his work quite
sufficient to fully employ his energies, as the following
words addressed to Mr. Lightfoot in May of that year
testify :
It is absolutely my duty as one of the Harrow masters to
protest most vigorously against your expressions of surprise
that I have not written. As a matter of course, we are excused
from all correspondence whatsoever, as far as writing goes,
and our friends seek to do all they can to cheer us in our
work by writing often and at length. See my theory ! and
yet it is not mine only, but the received view of things.
Last night I executed the only piece of work which the
College has allowed me to do for her, and set an Ecclesiastical
History paper for " the May." How delightful it would have
been to have come down for ten days to examine ; but it was
quite out of the question.
Our vacation is yet very distant, and I have no notion
173
174 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
what I shall do in it. I fear that I shall not be able to get
a house till Christmas, and that will tend to throw all my
plans into confusion. However, I always was an optimist,
and I shall remain true to my faith.
His devotion to Harrow and his work there was
very whole-hearted. The Hon. A. Gordon (now Lord
Stanmore), who visited him in July 1852, in a letter to
Mr. Benson thus describes his impressions of his day
at Harrow :
Just before we left London I went to spend a day with
Westcott. We had a delightful long walk and talk, in the
course of which we discussed all sorts of things. I was
amused to see how Harrow had changed him. He says he
has given up all theories of education after having tried his
own for a fortnight ! He seems heart and soul devoted to
Harrow, which he pronounces the best school in the world !
I have not enjoyed a day more for a long while.
He had the most complete confidence in his Head,
Dr. Vaughan, and found congenial friends among his
colleagues on the staff. The Harrow masters at this
time were indeed a distinguished body. My father s
most intimate Harrow friends were probably the Rev.
F. Kendall, also an old Birmingham boy ; the Rev.
F. W. Farrar, the present Dean of Canterbury ; and the
Rev. H. W. Watson. 1 The one thing needed to com
plete his life was the partner to whom he had been
so long attached. He states this in a letter to Mr.
Lightfoot :
HARROW, nth September 1852.
. . . My feelings with regard to Harrow remain still un
changed. I do not fancy that any school offers so good a
1 Rector of Berks well, Coventry. The well-known mathematician and
physicist.
IV
HARROW 175
field for training. I can enter into the system heartily, and
with the most perfect confidence in our head. Vaughan is
almost too kind, and yet withal clear and very decided in his
views. As I told you before, I feel that the work is doing me
good, and I hope that I may be able to profit by it as I should.
I should, however, be glad to have some one here to share
my little cares and troubles, which come more frequently
than in a College life ; but for this I must yet wait at least
till Christmas.
On 23rd December 1852 my father was married in
St. James Church, Bristol, to Sarah Louisa Mary
Whittard ; and after the Christmas holidays they set
up house together at " The Butts." His Cambridge
pupils seized the opportunity of his wedding to bestow
on him some tangible proof of their affection. This
wedding gift was a very handsome silver-gilt inkstand,
which my father always valued very highly. 1 Writing
to Mr. Lightfoot to acknowledge the gift, he says :
HARROW, 12th January 1853.
It is always quite vain to expect that our words will ever
answer to our deepest feelings ; so I shall make no attempt
to tell you how great was the pleasure with which we received
your note and the most beautiful gift which accompanied it.
To me it was most precious at this time, for I had a double
pleasure in seeing the delight with which my wife welcomed
such a proof of affection. Receive then our hearty thanks,
and pardon the absence of many words. Both Mary and myself
think that you will know what we feel far better than we can
express it.
I can never look back on my Cambridge life with sufficient
thankfulness. Above all, those hours which were spent over
1 He laughingly said at the time when he received this gift, that he
would never use it until he signed a name that was not his own. When,
therefore, he became a bishop, his wife and family insisted on having the
inkpot filled, and constrained him to fulfil his vow.
176 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Plato and Aristotle have wrought that in me which I pray
may never be done away. There is scarcely one who was
once called my pupil whom I may not now call my friend ;
and I trust to keep ever unbroken the ties formed so
auspiciously.
You know how much we need your prayers, and we are
assured that we shall have them. May you and all in whose
name you write have every blessing. We must often
" remember " you.
On the same day he wrote to Mr. Benson also,
thanking him for his share in the gift and for his con
gratulations. He adds thereto a prayer that Mr.
Benson, who had just been ordained, may receive every
blessing and all strength for his work, and concludes
with the words : "As is ever the case, may you find
comfort and joy and spiritual growth in ministering to
others."
In August 1854 my father paid a visit to the south
of France. He has left in his diary an unusually full
account of his experiences on this tour. From the 6th
to the 8th he was staying at Clermont, and thus
describes his doings :
6th August. My rest in the diligence gave me no excuse for
late indulgence this morning, and so after breakfast I walked
to Notre Dame du Port, passing the Cathedral, for the scene
of St. Bernard s triumph merits precedence even before the
resting-place of Massillon. The church is an exquisite and
perfect specimen of Romanesque. The modern stained
glass very good in its general effect. Kneeling among the
crowd gathered there to worship, and conscious of my real
isolation, I could not fail to remember, even with comfort, the
famous words "Dieu le volt." The time shall be, I hope,
when some of that congregation shall be received with us.
In the afternoon walked up the valley past Royat. The
scenery is very beautiful. A deep gorge lies between well-
wooded hills ; through it a stream leaps and sparkles, making
iv HARROW 177
pleasant music in the sunshine. Here and there, perched on
little cliffs, showing grey through the walnuts, rise Italian-like,
ridge- tiled houses; above them all the quaint Romanesque
church, and blue in the distance the Puy itself. I could not
resist the temptation to make a little sketch, but in a minute or
two a heavy storm came on and my task was broken off. In
returning I was drenched ; but in spite of that the day was
full of enjoyment.
y/$. Warned by my experience of yesterday, I bought a
very primitive parapluie before I started off for the ascent of
the Puy. Throughout the day it did me good service in
sunshine and rain. The views as you ascend the plateau are
very fine. The grand situation of Clermont becomes more
and more evident. A little mist fell as I came just under
the cone of the Puy, but it served the purpose of a spring, and
I was thankful to gather the drops which were collected on
the leaves of the bracken. The side which I chose for my
ascent was unfortunate. I never had a harder climb ; but it
was rewarded. Light fleecy clouds floated about here, and
there a dark storm rolled along, shading the mountain sides.
At times it rained pretty heavily, but le Puy kept clear of
mists, and the distance seemed grander for being measured
by the clouds. The Nid de Poule is remarkable. I came
upon it suddenly, and the impression was may I not say it ?
sublime. The course of the lava current, which issued
from one side of it, is clearly marked, and the sight of such
desolation gives an idea which cannot well be put into words.
8/$. This morning, armed again with my faithful umbrella,
which has begun to assume the battered appearance of a
veteran a little prematurely, I started for Gergovia. The road
lies along the highway for five or six miles, and the heaps of
stones opened to me mines of geological treasures. I almost
wished that I was an entomologist. I saw some glorious
butterflies : Painted-ladies, Swallow-tails, a Camberwell beauty,
Clouded yellows, Tortoise-shells, and Fritillaries of all kinds,
and one I did not recognise, not very unlike a White admiral.
The hill of Gergovia is striking in form, an admirable position
for a Gallic army. The summit is a long plateau, and the
sides are steep and in parts inaccessible. The stone rampart
along the south is very clearly marked. The east side is
VOL. I N
1 78 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
boldly escarped, and the view is beautiful. On descending,
as I had forgotten all my stores, I went into a little village
auberge for some bread and wine, which were good, cheap, and
clean. On my return I confess to being tired. I had tea in
the evening, which was a most refreshing luxury.
Passing over an interesting week, we come to his
stay at Lyons :
At Lyons my patience was tried by the execrable arrange
ments (?) about baggage. Octroi is an infinitely extended
customs examination, and all my troubles were climacterised
by being made to pay a franc for the transport of my port
manteau for about a hundred yards. In vain I protested.
Every one assured me that it was the fixed tariff; but to this
present I believe it is the tariff of Englishmen only.
i ith August. Lyons appears to me to be one of the finest
cities in the world. It is truly queenly. I climbed the hill
to Fourvieres, and found the road better than I had expected.
The little street leading to the church of Notre Dame offers
a strange sight, every house being full of offerings destined
to decorate the church. The exterior of the church announces
some of the greater benefits which the Patroness of Lyons is
supposed to have secured to the city freedom from cholera
on two occasions, 1831 and 1835. After all, is it not better
to see in this, and openly acknowledge, however rudely, the
working of Providence, than to speak only of sanitary reform ?
Some of the tablets which cover the wall are very interesting.
One announces the answer of the long continued prayers of
daughters for a father, who at last received the Holy
Eucharist. The church was full of devout worshippers.
After getting a little familiar with the view from the terrace,
I mounted the Observatory, and I should fancy there are few
such views in the world. On every side it is full of interest
and beauty. If we could not see Mount Blanc, I was satisfied
with the Jura ; and I do not think I would have parted with
the soft deep atmosphere and fleecy clouds even to have
secured a view of the king of mountains. The Rhone and
Saone can be traced to the junction. Through the telescope
iv HARROW 179
the remains of the Roman aqueduct are clearly seen. There
rises the little pyramid of Auray; there the quarter of the
Croix Rousse, and above it the threatening batteries of the
fortifications ; there the dome of the Hotel Dieu (fine name
it is). The inscriptions in the book are interesting and
characteristic. Few English, Spanish, and German ; many
American ; most French. An American records his opinion
that the view is "considerable pumpkins," an opinion which
wins the approbation of his next following countryman. The
Spaniard expresses his admiration with dignity. The English
man gives his address ; the German his titles. The Frenchman
often adds some little prayer to Notre Dame.
From the Observatory I passed by some Roman remains
to the churches of St. Irenaeus and St. Juste and then to the
Cathedral. The Cathedral has much that is interesting, but
my eye has been spoiled for anything of second-rate excellence
by Bourges. The interest of the church at Auray was very
different, and I enjoyed an hour or two there in sketching,
and wishing that the restorers had left well alone. Those
four granite pillars in the centre tell a strange tale.
The last days of my father s sojourn in France were
spent in Paris. On this, as on other occasions, he
spent much time in the Bibliotheque working at MSS.
Of his Sunday he writes :
In the morning go to the English Chapel. The singing as
before very poor and unecclesiastical. When will our church
be well represented to foreigners ? The Bishop of London
even promised to come over to Confirm, but at the last
moment he withdraws. There is something of zeal wanting
among us. After service walk through the Louvre. A well-
behaved crowd filled the rooms, but I could see little of study
or deeper enjoyment. The chief attraction was the Napoleon
room. Round every article bed or chair or cabinet, hat or
coat or cloak of state numbers affectionately hung. The
man must have been a great man who can thus have identified
himself with a nation. To me, I confess, the splendid
decorations of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette were more
i8o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
attractive. The fan and slipper, rich and delicate, had a
deep moral. There were obvious sermons in these, and not
less striking in the devotional books of Charlemagne, St.
Louis, and Henri XIV. On the whole, I do not think that I
saw anything in the whole exhibition which inclined me to
open such places on Sunday.
In 1855 m y father, on the occasion of a visit to
Cambridge, met Professor Tischendorf, the eminent
biblical scholar. These two great authorities on the
text of the New Testament seem to have encountered
one another by accident in the University Library.
They conversed in French, and the outcome of it was
that my father was not favourably impressed by the
famous German scholar. Cambridge generally seems to
have come to the conclusion that Professor Tischendorf
was a man of one idea, that idea being " Palimpsests and
codices."
In the same year appeared the first edition of my
father s General Survey of the History of the Canon of
the New Testament.
He dedicated this work to his old master, Bishop
Prince Lee. In acknowledging the gift, the Bishop
says : " The dedication is most gratifying to me,
combining as it does both pleasurable recollections of
our past work, with the sense of your present good
will, and the assurance that non omnis moriar in a
work which I have already read enough of to see it is
of value and will last." Some years later my father
wrote to Mr. Macmillan asking him to send a copy of
a new edition of this work to the Library of Trinity
College, because, to quote his own words, " It seems
(strange compliment !) that the copy of the first edition
is one of the two books which have disappeared from
the library in the last ten years."
IV
HARROW 181
The Easter holidays of 1856 were devoted to
geologising, this being almost the last occasion when
my father suffered acutely from the geological fever.
He never shook it off entirely. He thus writes to his
wife :
FARRINGDON, April 1856.
Did you ever see an enthusiastic geologist, my dearest
Mary, with two immense masses of " conglomerate " weighing
down his feet, a large umbrella overhead, and a stout heart
within ? If you never have, you might have had the sight to
day at " Lamb s Close quarry " between the hours of ten and
twelve. The morning very early was magnificently fine, but
when breakfast was over the rain was falling in torrents.
But what matter ? I went out, and in sunshine and rain, and
above all in mud, I collected a few interesting fossils. Then
I returned and spent the rest of the morning in cleaning and
packing, and at half-past one Mr. Adam came in a very neat
black tie (as you are particular in your inquiries) and in
capital spirits, in spite of the rain. Chops refreshed us for
our afternoon s work, and starting in rain we soon had
sunshine to reward us, and the sunshine lasted all the
afternoon. To my other fossils I added a few bones and
teeth, which are interesting. To - morrow we start for
Chippenham. We find that something must be sacrificed,
and Swindon is the least important victim.
It was a great satisfaction to hear that you reached Bristol
so well. Katie is evidently not of a philosophical frame of
mind. We must teach her to adapt herself to circumstances,
and not drive poor gentlemen from railway carriages. How
ever, Mary is a model traveller.
If you go to Clifton you may make anticipatory inquiries
of the fossil man, and learn anything of the stone-pits at
Westbury. The geological fever is at its height. By Saturday
I expect I shall call you a "chenendopora," or my dear
"scyphica," or call you an admirable cabinet specimen.
Take care you are not put into a dish of muriatic acid to
bring out your good features. But, indeed, I must not
chatter longer.
I
1 82 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
It had been my father s intention to spend his
summer holidays of 1856 at Bonn, with a view to
studying German. He said at the time, " I am so full
of the notion that I expect to come back half a
German student ; but I cannot even in fancy picture
either the sword or the pipe as part of my dress. I
am bent more on work than on pleasure. However, I
shall take a sketch-book with me, and the rage for
1 Prout s Brown has not yet quite exhausted itself."
This solitary expedition did not, however, come off;
but the idea was realised two years later, when he went
to Dresden with a friend, Mr. R. M. Hensley. 1 He
thus describes their method of procedure there :
... As soon as breakfast is over our German master,
N. von Schweintz, comes in with some copy-books, a volume
of Goethe, and a grammar. We begin reading aloud,
construing little fragments, and then writing some from
dictation. Meanwhile a little conversation goes on. Old
recollections are renewed by the familiar u zum Beispiel."
The dictation is corrected, a piece given for German transla
tion, and an hour and a half is gone. This over, I start to
the Library, where I work till it closes, and perhaps think of
the luxury and quiet of our reading room in the incessant
chatter. However, I do some work, and find about one-
fourth of the books I want, for there is only a very poor
collection of modern Theology. At one we meet and boldly
go to a restauration, where we dine sumptuously on three or
four courses for about a shilling.
While in Dresden my father frequently visited the
Picture Gallery. One of his favourite pictures was
Titian s " Tribute Money." He writes of it thus :
It seems to me one of the most " feeling " pictures which
I have ever seen. The head of our Lord shows a sorrowful
1 Now Sir Robert Hensley, Chairman of the Metropolitan Asylums
Board.
iv HARROW 183
dignity of rebuke which is marvellous. He penetrates to the
very bottom of the question and the trick nay, it is all open
before Him. He almost expostulates with His adversary for
his powerless cunning ; and the Herodian looks as one who
believes in nothing, who has pleasure merely in raising a
difficulty keen, sceptical, faithless.
Of the Sixtine Madonna he says :
It is smaller than I expected, and the colouring is less
rich, but in expression it is perfect. The face of the Virgin
is unspeakably beautiful. I looked till the lip seemed to
tremble with intensity of feeling of feeling simply, for it
would be impossible to say whether it be awe or joy or hope
humanity shrinking before the divine, or swelling with its
conscious possession. It is enough that there is deep,
intensely deep emotion, such as the mother of the Lord may
have had. I cannot fully understand the two cherubs yet.
The taller the contemplative is infinitely more beautiful
in the picture than in the engraving ; the other the
meditative is somewhat dull at first sight, but I must study
his expression more carefully.
Again he says of the same picture :
The Virgin s head offers the exact contrast to that of the
Saviour. In that there is the least human development with
the fulness of divine power; in the other the fulness of
humanity overpowered by the presence of the divine. A
somewhat similar contrast seems to hold between the two
subsidiary figures. St. Barbara, in the freshness of exquisite
beauty, dares not look up at the godlike vision. Sixtus, worn
out with age, lifts up his grey head in thankful adoration.
For symmetry s sake I should like to carry the same idea to
the cherubs, but I cannot at present active contemplation,
inward meditation, this is what they represent. But yet I
do not see their exact relation to the other figures, or why
they carry our thoughts out of the picture. But without them
the picture would be more incomplete than the engraving,
and in time the whole will grow more clear.
I
1 84 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Another picture that pleased him was a figure of
St. Roderigo by Murillo. Of this he says :
The painter has succeeded in giving what seems to be the
Christian ideal of martyrdom. St. Roderigo stands in his
priestly robes with the palm-branch in his hand, and with his
eyes turned to heaven. An angel appears to him with a
chaplet of flowers ready to place it on his head, and the saint
seems to say with deepest faith, " If thou wilt the crown :
yet what thou wilt." A slight blood-stained mark round
his neck alone tells of suffering and violence. The angel
alone is with him. His enemies are unseen or unnoticed.
Generally in scenes of martyrdom one is horrified by all
the external instruments of torture. The outward overcomes
the inward in the impression on the spectator. Here it is
all otherwise, and I shall see for long the solemn figure with
heavenward face which tells of the inward victory at the
moment of suffering.
One other picture is very striking in its conception,
though the execution seems to me faulty in many parts. The
subject is the Magdalen. She is kneeling before an open
grave. Her only dress is her long wavy hair, which falls in
rippled ringlets to her feet no word but "rippled" could
describe the bright gleaming eddies which the hair makes
and a winding-sheet which an angel is folding round her.
Her eyes are swimming in tears, and she looks to the
heavenly messenger as her deliverer. If St. Roderigo is the
type of Christian martyr, the Magdalen is the type of the
Christian penitent. Together the pictures teach great lessons
on death, yet of death to those on whom earth has no claims.
The priest and the recluse seem half removed from earth
already. How can we realise such lessons ?
At Dresden my father was present at a grand
Requiem on the anniversary of the late king s death.
He was not, however, favourably impressed by the
music or the service. The great orchestral band had
been transferred entire from the theatre to the church.
The very choir was unnatural, for men took the treble
IV
HARROW 185
parts " a barbarity worthy of the seventeenth century."
Neither was he pleased with the treasures of the famous
" Green Vault," which he characterises as a collection
of " precious trifles, whose inestimable value cannot
redeem them from contempt nay, rather increases it."
He describes these treasures at considerable length.
Amongst them he mentions caskets " which had first
held reliques and afterwards money (the new divinity),"
a font like a rose-water dish, and countless drinking
vessels, for the treasures of the old Electors were
mainly composed of these. Finally, his party were
admitted into a little room where they beheld " the
very climax of barbarism." The room contained a
collection of enormous pearls. This is what he has to
say about the uses to which they were put :
Fancy that the largest pearl in the world is turned into
the body of a hideous model of a court dwarf, that others
are made to represent Punches, and figures of the most
shameless vulgarity. " C est assez curieux " was the remark
of a French lady who came out. She was a gentle critic.
One day, having stayed too long at the " Porzellan
Fabrik " at Meissen, my father and his companion,
Mr. Hensley, missed their return boat. They had the
satisfaction of seeing it well off in mid -stream when
they reached the pier ! What were they to do now ?
There was no later boat, and they were fifteen miles
from Dresden. There was a railway somewhere in the
background, but probably no train. They decided to
race the boat to the next station. My father tells the
story :
In a minute we found ourselves running by the water-side,
as the vessel moved at no very swift pace up the stream.
There was a pathway along the bank, the next station being
1 86 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
some three or four miles distant. The passengers on the
boat soon noticed our efforts, and we became a centre of
interest. I do not know whether the Germans are given to
betting, but I fancy that our powers of endurance must have
been the subject of many wagers, and the chances were
decidedly against us. Once our hope was greatly raised.
The vessel stopped to take up passengers on the other side,
but, alas ! it took no heed of our cries. On the vessel went,
and on we went, at an equal pace. On, on, steadily and
resolutely, without word spoken, till Hensley trips up and falls
heavily down. In a moment he is up again, fortunately only
with a scratched elbow and a torn coat, and on, on we go
again. The race really becomes serious, and we can see that
the interest on board is increasing. I noticed a com
passionate stewardess watching almost every movement on
our part, and I could fancy her interceding for us. The
station was far, far off. The heat was still great, and we were
not in training. Sympathy for us was not confined to the
vessel. An old woman bending under a vast load of sticks
called out to me as I passed, "Laufen sie nicht, sie
werden ..." Alas ! the end of her sentence was lost as I
passed quickly on, and now quickly with good reason, for I
noticed that the captain made signals which seemed to be
for our encouragement. On, on we ran, and now the vessel
seemed to be nearing the shore. We saw some men busy
with a long board, and hope triumphed. At a sudden bend
of the river the water proved to be deep close to the bank.
The vessel came close in, the board was put out, and in half
a minute we were steaming on. In a moment a crowd was
round us. As we were going to sit down on deck, twenty
voices cried out, " Nicht hier, nicht hier. In die Kajiite in
die Kajiite, geschwind." We found ourselves hurried away
most wisely into the cabin, where the windows were instantly
shut to prevent a draught, and we were overwhelmed with
good advice as to how to cool ourselves. As Hensley
looked rather pale, a most medical-looking gentleman came
up, took his hand, and said with an expression of the most
profound sympathy, " Wie fiihlen sie sich ? " I fancied that
he would prescribe on the spot. By degrees the whole ship s
company came in detachments to look at us, with the most
iv HARROW 187
kind feeling, and they appeared to admire equally the captain s
goodness in stopping and our " pluck " pardon the word
in going on. In about an hour or so we were moderately
cool, and an admirable cup i.e. five cups of tea removed
all sense of fatigue. Apart from the good effect of the excite
ment, I really felt drawn to everybody by their real kindness.
Having concluded their German lessons at Dresden,
the two friends enjoyed some further travels. They
proceeded to invade Bohemia :
PRAGUE, 29^ August 1858.
We have, you see, reached Prague, the final limit of our
wanderings. . . . We reached the gates of the fortress after a
good climb with only a little rain. But after we had obtained
our tickets of admission and were joined by the guide, the
rain fell in torrents. The time allowed for a visit is only an
hour and a half. We asked our guide whether we could wait
a little, as we could, of course, see nothing. He said that we
might wait in the restauration, and he would inform the
Commandant of the fact. We accepted the arrangement
gladly, and added a cup of coffee to our hasty breakfast.
Still things looked desperate. When the guide came back I
heard him talking to our landlady, and caught the words
"schrecklich," " Englander," " nichts sehen," from which I
gathered that he supposed that none but English would
venture up in such horrible weather when nothing could be
seen. We watched the clouds anxiously, and welcomed some
breaks in them. They now began to drift more rapidly, and
roll and rise on all sides. The rain ceased, and I thought
that we might venture out. The view was grand. Black
heavy masses of cloud rested on the heights, but the fore
ground was bright and clear. Light mists swept over the
dark pine woods, and along the valleys. Gleams of blue sky
appeared through openings in the clouds. In the far distance
a reach of the Elbe glittered in the sunshine. The view
became more and more beautiful every minute, ever changing
as the showers swept by, and sometimes over, us. The
fortress itself is very interesting. It has rarely been besieged
1 88 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and never been taken, and is the hiding-place of the Dresden
treasures in time of war. In 1849 all was conveyed here,
and the king himself with the royal family lived in its shelter
for two months. ... A walk leads all round the edge of the
rock which the fortress encloses, and, as you may fancy, the
interest is ever kept awake by the fresh combinations of wood
and rock. The sunshine literally followed. The clouds
rolled over what we had seen and away from what we wished
to see. The stormy sky for the clouds were high added,
in fact, immensely to the effects, and we were the more
pleased as we had expected to see nothing. . . . The last
wonder of the fortress is the well, which is 600 ells deep.
Some water was poured in and it was seventeen seconds before
the sound of its fall came back. We listened and listened,
and thought we must have failed to notice it, when at last
came the sharp rattling of the little stream. Afterwards four
lights were lowered with a little barrel, and we watched them
sink till they became like a star, and till one s head was dizzy
with looking. ... I wish that I could by any device give
you half the pleasure which I felt in looking at the cliff
scenery of the Elbe. I should feel really unhappy if I did
not trust that you would one day see it. It is not too vast
for pleasure, but is like a small cabinet of exquisite pictures,
which you can enjoy at once without the long study and
preparation which is needful for the understanding of greater
works. Yet the scenery is neither little nor on a small scale,
but its character is picturesqueness of the highest order, and
exquisite colour, rather than majesty. To me the pleasure
was wholly a new one. No comparisons could suggest them
selves, and only another image was added to the stores with
which memory is already charged. ... On our way back we
went into another church, from which we heard the sound of
voices. It was crowded and mass was being celebrated.
Every one seemed to join in the chant, and I can only liken
the effect to that which you remember at Havre and Amiens.
Why cannot we have the same thing in our Church ? It makes
me almost feel angry to hear sounds so deeply moving,
which ought also to express our feelings, and yet know that
we must remain silent when we should in turn raise full
swelling hymns. The same sort of feeling came over me
IV
HARROW 189
also yesterday when I saw that the Pope had at once directed
two bishops, one with twenty missionaries, to proceed at once
to China in consequence of the new treaty. We shall barely
follow with two or three perhaps. What marvellous power
the organisation of the Roman Church gives to its leaders,
and is it wrong ? Oh ! Marie, how often I wonder what we
do for our religion. Granted that we are different from what
we should be if we were not Christians, is it so clear that our
relations to others would be changed ? We stand and watch
the great stream roll by, we know not whither, we ask not
whither. Soul after soul passes us, and we make no attempt
to hold communion with it. We bear no open witness :
perhaps we doubt ourselves. Can it not be otherwise?
That full hymn this morning raised all these old thoughts,
and how shall we answer them ? How, Marie ? If our
thoughts could only find a natural utterance, and a simple
active energy ! There is a quakerism of temper as well as a
quakerism of dress, I fancy ; and I am a Quaker in feeling, I
fancy, yet ready to adopt not the Quaker s velvet collar, but
a sober every-day dress if I can find it. See, Marie, a new
change on Carlyle s "clothes." Now I must go down to tea.
In following the course of my father s life at Harrow,
as preserved in his diaries and letters, one is almost
tempted to forget that during those eighteen years he
was a strenuous schoolmaster, giving always his best
energies to his immediate duties. His wonderful literary
activity, his interesting holiday excursions, his continual
yearning towards Cambridge, come so prominently
before one, and their present evidences are so manifest,
that one overlooks the fact that they were a com
paratively small part of his Harrow life. We know
his books ; we know his sketches, which enshrine the
memories of his holidays ; we know that Cambridge
was the natural goal he reached ; and so we minimise
his Harrow work. He is well known to many by his
books ; but these were the product of what one may
1 9 o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
call his overtime work, and of his holiday labours. His
personal influence was something far beyond. His
industry, and capacity for work were so extraordinary
that he was able, while discharging to the uttermost
and extending his regular school duties, to execute
other enduring work. But during the long years of
his Harrow life he was heart and soul a Harrow
master : his best was continuously given to his boys,
and he found time to keep up correspondence with
many of them after they had left the school.
Considerations such as these compel me to pause,
as it were, in mid career and view my father simply
as the schoolmaster. He has himself described the
teacher s influence and office ; and strove in his own
work to realise the high conception which he had
formed. This is what he says :
The frank questioning, the interchange of thought, the
influence of personal enthusiasm, the inspiring power of living
words, which come in the free intercourse of the class-room,
give a force and a meaning to facts and theories which the
book cannot convey. It is spiritual. The end of the teacher
whose work we strive to follow is not fixed by the communica
tion of his special lesson. He will seek, indeed, to do this
as perfectly as possible, but he will at the same time suggest
the vast fields which lie unexplored even in his own depart
ment ; he will make clear the limitations and assumptions
under which his results are obtained ; he will add, if I may
so express the truth, the symbol of infinity to the provisional
statements which represent the actual attainments of man ;
he will use the most effective technical education as the
vehicle of wider culture. Literature, art, and science will be
for him partial revelations of a boundless life, and it will be
his object to make the life felt through the least part with
which he deals.
How far he succeeded in his aim it is for his pupils
iv HARROW 191
to say. There are many old Harrow boys who felt the
" wonderful magnetism " of his strong personality, and
gratefully acknowledge what they owe to him. Let
some of them therefore bear their testimony.
Mr. C. B. Heberden, Principal of Brasenose College,
writes :
When I look back on Mr. Westcott s work at Harrow
after an interval of thirty-five years, it seems to me that what
was especially characteristic of his teaching was the combina
tion of the minutest accuracy in detail with width of learning
and broad generalisations. For example, he insisted rigidly
on the importance of bringing out the exact significance of
a tense or a particle, while at the same time he encouraged
us, so far as possible, to read large portions of classical
authors. Many must remember with pleasure how he made
us read plays of Euripides rapidly with him in his study.
He tried to stimulate us to think for ourselves. I remember
his saying once that he would gladly teach us what was
wrong, if he could only be sure that we should discover the
mistake and find out what was right. He- used to draw up
outlines of thought on all manner of subjects, often quite
outside the ordinary school curriculum, tracing, for example,
the general headings under which long periods of history
might be grouped, and in this way he gave us many
suggestions for writing essays, for which at that time very
little was done in school teaching.
Mr. Westcott was one of the first of the Harrow masters
to recognise the importance of music in school life, and thus
did much to promote the wonderful work accomplished by
Mr. Farmer at Harrow in the course of the sixties. Unless
I am mistaken, Mr. Westcott s house was the first to adopt
house-singing, and "lo triumphe," written by him at Mr.
Farmer s request, was the first of the Harrow school-songs.
His sermons in the school chapel were unique ; delivered
very quietly and without a trace of anything approaching to
rhetoric, not easy for boys to follow in consequence of the
amount of thought put into them and the conciseness of the
language in which it was expressed, but all the more weighty
192 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and impressive. Apart from the more direct religious influence
in his sermons and in his preparation of candidates for
confirmation, all his teaching was permeated by a sense of
religion. Thus he would dwell on subjects such as the
myths of Plato, the poetry of ^Eschylus and Browning (for
whom he had a great admiration), and on some points in the
philosophy of Comte, with special reference to the religious
ideas which they embodied. His mind was always fixed on
great principles, and I believe that this gave a peculiar value
to his teaching, however much his thoughts may have some
times been beyond our comprehension.
Mr. T. G. Rooper, one of H.M. s Inspectors of
Schools, writes :
As might be expected, Dr. Westcott s influence on many
of the boys in the school was deep and lasting. This was
due not only to his acknowledged pre-eminence in learning,
but even more to his sympathy, to his good-nature, and above
all, to his gentleness and unlimited kindness.
It was not to the older boys alone, or those in his own
house and pupil-room, that he was ready to give advice and
assistance. As a new boy I well remember that he invited
me to take a botanical walk with him because he had heard
from one of his pupils that I was fond of collecting flowers.
I have not forgotten the suggestions which he made con
cerning the collection of wild-flowers on that sunny afternoon,
but I recall even more clearly his remark on our return :
" After a long walk there is nothing I find so refreshing as
a cup of tea. Will you join Mrs. Westcott and me at six
o clock ? "
Neither can I forget his friendly and genial talk during
the social meal. What a rebuke to pert confidence and
crude self-assertion was the Doctor s tentative treatment of
large questions, his habit of inquiring in a humble spirit, his
readiness to gather information even from a child ! What
a valuable lesson for positive puppyhood when he who was so
well qualified to pronounce judgment preferred rather to ask
questions, to hesitate, and to encourage further research !
IV
HARROW 193
On another occasion he arranged to take a party of boys
to St. Alban s Abbey, then unrestored. He showed how to
study details of mouldings, and to make drawings of them with
the view of distinguishing different stages of Gothic archi
tecture ; and some of the party date their interest in archi
tectural studies from that day.
But it was not only in expeditions such as these that he
gained the respect and affection of the boys ; he frequently
took part in games of football, and amid winter wind and
rain contended with the most active.
The scholars in the Sixth Form received special help and
attention. He would urge them to study their Euripides or
their Sophocles in copious draughts. He held classes in
which boys, under his guidance, read rapidly through a whole
play before making a minute study of details. When the
time came for the study of detail he would teach the class
to exercise their constructive faculty. For example, if an
instance occurred of "the attraction of the relative" in a
Greek author, he would help the boys to collect examples of
all the variations of this construction, and lead them to study
the researches of eminent scholars on the point. If any pupil
of his failed to learn how to collect, compare, contrast, and
classify facts, with the view of arriving at general principles, it
was the fault of the scholar and not of the master.
In the school pulpit Dr. Westcott s sermons were a source
of inspiration to many. His turn to preach was looked
forward to by the whole school with special interest. The
younger boys were attracted by his personality; the older
boys expected to be "set on thinking," and were never
disappointed. He certainly made no attempt to preach
down to the level of a juvenile audience, but without any
such condescension he managed to direct their thoughts
much as he wished them to be directed.
< His exact knowledge as a classical scholar, combined with
an unusual width of interest in numerous other branches of
learning, enabled him to encourage boys in all sorts of
pursuits. "German now," he once remarked, "you should
learn that language. You can teach yourselves as I did. I
got a copy of the Deutsches Balladenbuch and worked at that
to commence with."
VOL. I O
194 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
"On questions of theology," he remarked, "hesitate to
pronounce opinions before you are thirty years of age."
Such was Dr. Westcott as I remember him at Harrow
guiding us in our studies, inspiring us with ideas, elevating
us through his preaching, joining in our amusements, gravely
taking part in the school Debating Society, writing school
songs, and ever ready to help all and sundry in any way he
could. Many of his old pupils look back to his work as one
of the chiefest of the good influences of a great public school,
and many still linger over his memory with gratitude and
affection.
Bishop Gore writes :
Through some accident, the nature of which I cannot
remember, I once had to go to your father to ask for an
order for Poppo s Thucydides. On that occasion he almost
shivered, as was his way, at the idea of a boy beginning so
early the use of a commentary, and he took down his own
Becker s text and assured me that he had nothing but the
bare text till he was, I think he said, twenty-three. Then
he explained to me how fatal was the premature use of
commentaries.
A sermon of his, which doubtless you have got, on the
"Disciplined Life," made a profound impression on some
other boys and on me. 1 Just before he left I remember a
correspondence of his with the Headmaster advocating the
institution of the weekly Eucharist in the school chapel, in
which I was interested, as, with some other boys, I had the
habit of going on Sunday mornings to the parish church
when there was no Communion in the chapel. I remember
an examination paper of his in the New Testament, which
I have lost, but which I came upon a few years ago, and
which impressed me with a sense of the very high standard
he set for the instruction of boys in the New Testament. It
might have been set to-day for an honour theology examina
tion at either University.
1 This sermon, originally printed for private circulation, is contained in
Words of Faith and Hope.
iv HARROW 195
Sir W. H. B. ffolkes, Bart., writes :
I was with your father nearly seven years, being with him
in a small house as well as in the larger house, so that I had
a more thorough knowledge of his merits from a schoolboy s
point of view than others who were with him for a shorter
time.
I was sent to Harrow far too young, being a little boy of
little more than twelve. From the moment I entered Mr.
Westcott s house as the youngest boy in the school till I left
Harrow in 1866, I received nothing but the greatest kindness
from him. He always treated us as gentlemen, and our word
once given to him was quite enough, whatever others might
say. In the small house there were only about eight of us,
and we were in constant touch with him, so that he did an
immense amount of good to us all.
He would take us out for walks, and show us every flower
and fern that grew in the neighbourhood of Harrow. His
general knowledge was extraordinary, and he could instruct
us on almost any subject. I owe him a great debt for such
knowledge of natural history and other subjects of general
knowledge as I acquired from him.
Mr. Westcott was too good to be a schoolmaster. He had
not an atom of the prig about him, and I pity the boy who
would have dared to tell him a lie.
When we went into the big house opposite the old pump,
we found ourselves among thirty -six boys, not particularly
distinguished either in games or school work. Well, Mr.
Westcott worked this house up until it became the clever
house in the school, with more boys in the sixth than any
other, and in consequence there was a great deficiency of fags.
In games, too, we improved greatly. He took an interest
in everything that we did our work, play, and hobbies.
( Even in such a matter as stamps his knowledge was surprising.
He rarely punished us ; perhaps he ought to have done so
more frequently, but he preferred to give a kind admonition,
and whoever received an admonition, if he was a gentleman,
never required another for a similar offence. He took the
Sixth Form in the Headmaster s absence, but I do not think
he was a good Form master. He was too great a scholar for
196 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
that. I was told that once when he was taking the Sixth in
Aristophanes he was so taken with a passage that he went on
reading, and forgot all about the Form. But as a composition
master for the Sixth he was first-rate.
I have always felt the deepest affection for your father. I
owe so much to his kindness and advice, though I was one of
his less brilliant pupils. One day, when Mr. Westcott was in
pupil -room correcting a small boy s Latin verses, a big boy
shot a hard paper pellet at the little fellow. He missed him,
however, and hit Mr. Westcott a very severe blow on the
cheek. He flushed, and the veins on his forehead stood out,
as they always did when he was moved. " Who did that ? "
he said, and the culprit at once jumped up and said, " I did,
sir, and I am very sorry." Mr. Westcott said, "A very good
shot. If you had missed me I should have set you a Georgic."
That was your father all over. He would not have dreamed
of punishing under the circumstances, as it would seem as if
he had lost his temper. In justice to the offender, I should
add that he waited for Mr. Westcott after school, and said
how sorry he was, and that he had not intended the act.
One morning I was asked by my Form master for 200
lines a punishment which he had not set me, but the boy
next to me. Schoolboy honour, of course, prevented me
from explaining the case. I said that I had not written the
lines because they had not been set me. The master accord
ingly doubled my unset punishment. I had to go to your
father to get the punishment paper. He said, "My dear
ffolkes, you are always getting into trouble. What have you
done now ? " I explained matters to him, and he believed
me, and wrote to my Form master, but without success! He
promised to remit me 400 lines on his own account when I
got into trouble with him, but I must say that except for his
sympathy I was no better off, for he never set me a punish
ment of the sort.
The Rev. G. H. Kendall, Headmaster of Charter
house, says : l
1 Sermon preached before the University of Cambridge, 3rd November
1901.
iv HARROW 197
At Harrow, for eighteen years, his work and he, I am
sure, would never have miscalled it drudgery lay in the
correction of Sixth Form composition. Perhaps the most
impressive single lesson I recall at school was his correction of
a boyish essay on Robert Browning s "Grammarian s Funeral."
The conception of the poet that he most cherished was that
of one "who sees the infinite in things," and this poem
possessed for him the special fascination of dramatising self-
sacrifice, faith, consecration, in that very field of work, and
even in that unseen and highly specialised corner of it, to
which, imbued with Cambridge traditions, he dedicated so
much of his own powers. All work yes, that of recondite
and solitary erudition admits of consecration \ and no con
secrated work can possibly be wasted. The student s toil
may, in time, seem isolated or self-centred ; but in eternity it
finds its meaning
Earn the means first God surely will contrive
Use for our earning.
Others mistrust and say, " But time escapes !
Live now or never ! "
He said, " What s time ? Leave now for dogs and apes !
Man has for ever ! "
It is not uttered words, but the impress of manner, of
conviction, that I recall. That at least abode with me. The
first prize I chose at Cambridge was an edition of Browning s
poems ; and to this day, as I read or rehearse stray melodies
from that poem, I catch the echo of the teacher s words in
my own life still passing into the eternal.
Sir C. Dalrymple, Bart, M.P., writes : l
Through the mist of years I recall my revered tutor as a
Harrow Master in the fifties. A writer in The Pilot has lately
said that Westcott was " noticeable in a society dominated by
convention and commonplace." Who would suppose that in
the society so contemned were included (to mention but a
few) Dr. Vaughan and his brother, Pears, Rendall, Bradby,
1 In The Harrovian.
198 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Farrar, John Smith ? But no doubt there was an element of
mystery about Westcott in those remote days. It was, I
believe, the mystery of a great reputation, of which we boys
knew but little, though we were conscious of it. He was not
widely known at Harrow in those earlier years, for he was
shy, reserved, sensitive, a laborious student. Nor do I think
that he ever largely affected the public life of the School,
though he left marks deep and ineffaceable on pupils who
knew him well. It is extraordinary to realise that in 1853
he was only thirty, for he seemed to us full of learning (as
indeed he was) and weighted with care. He took the Sixth
Form every now and then, generally at Fourth School, and
impressed us all with his earnest interest in the lesson. I
fear that the Sixth Form took some liberties with him, and
there was occasional disturbance, which would have been
impossible in the presence of the Headmaster. Only rarely
if Dr. Vaughan was preaching in London did Westcott
take the Sunday afternoon lesson, and in his hands it had
special interest. He seemed to have drunk in the spirit of
St. Paul as no one else ever did.
He took his turn of preaching in Chapel, but he dreaded
and disliked the duty, and he was quite inaudible to many of
the boys. We knew all the same that his were no common
sermons. It has been truly said " the sentences were closely
packed with meaning, and the meaning was not always easy."
To his own pupils, or to Sixth Form fellows who went to him
with composition, the visits to his beautiful study at The
Butts, where he lived for some years, were a great delight, and
they acted on us like a tonic.
We felt, I think, that to bring poor work to him was
specially inappropriate, and that we must give him of our best
whatever it might be. The pains that he took ; the encour
agement that he gave to poor efforts ; the high ideal that he
set before us these can readily be recalled. Then he would
pass for a little time to pleasant talk, and if any reference to
foreign travel recurred he would say, "You remember such a
cathedral and the carving at the head of the columns," and
he would hastily draw, sometimes at the corner of one s poor
exercise, a lovely bit of carved foliage there is no doubt that
his knowledge of architecture was wide and accurate and
iv HARROW 199
one went away refreshed and braced from contact alike with
his cultivation and his sympathy. He was always warmly
interested in those who were " going up to Trinity." As we
had been accustomed to value sermons in Harrow Chapel, I
asked him as to preachers at Cambridge, and received the
instant reply, " You can never go wrong with Harvey Good
win " (afterwards Dean of Ely and Bishop of Carlisle). His
parting gift, "In affectionate remembrance of Brooke F.
Westcott," was a Novum Testamentum tetraglotton, by Theile
and Stier, beautifully bound (it is before me as I write), and
the date of the gift is 26th July 1858.
Sir Charles Dalrymple has also written a few words
about some of my father s Harrow pupils, mentioning
specially Mr. R. A. Earle, at one time Disraeli s secre
tary ; and Mr. Graham Murray, M.P., Lord-Lieutenant
of Bute, and Lord Advocate of Scotland, as being pupils
of whose abilities my father had a high opinion. Further
he says :
One specially interesting pupil, also a boarder in Mr.
Westcott s house, the late Marquess of Bute, through many
years, and up to the time of his death, valued the friendship
of his old tutor.
Year after year it was the custom of Lord Bute, who had
palms in his chapel that had been blessed, to send one of
them on Palm Sunday to his old tutor. After he had had a
paralytic stroke in the spring of 1900, Lord Bute lay on Palm
Sunday in a torpid condition, while those around him believed
that he was noticing and caring for nothing. To a friend
who was beside him he quite suddenly turned and said in a
low voice, " Will you see that the Bishop of Durham gets his
palm ? "
The following letter to Mr. Benson, who was at the
time a master at Rugby, will serve to reveal in part the
sort of spirit in which my father engaged in his school
work :
!
200 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
HARROW, 24/7* May 1860.
My dear Benson Will you look at the enclosed scheme ?
I cannot but hope that it will have your support, and that it
may prove a great comfort to us in our common work. Ever
yours affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
(Circular)
It has seemed to some who are engaged in school work
that they might derive additional strength to meet their many
difficulties from the practice of common and stated prayer
bearing upon the wants and trials of school life. The approach
ing season of Whitsuntide offers a peculiar promise for the
commencement of such prayer, which might in the first
instance be made with a view to a blessing upon the whole
scheme of sympathetic union.
Even humanly speaking, the consciousness of sympathy,
as it appears, would prove a motive and a help to persever
ance.
It is proposed
(1) To have fixed times for common prayer, as
(a) The great Communion Festivals.
(/>) Some one day in each week (as Friday).
(2) To have (if possible) a unity in the subjects of prayer,
as
(a) For the gift of the Holy Ghost in our work
at Whitsuntide, etc.
(b) By turning our thoughts to special temptations,
as in Lent.
(3) To seek to support one another (if it may seem desir
able) by prayer in times of peculiar trial.
If you are inclined to join in carrying out such a scheme,
would you kindly let me know ? And I should feel greatly
obliged by any suggestions as to the details of the plan.
In the year 1857, when the University of Cam
bridge was becoming agitated in the matter of reform,
IV
HARROW 201
my father, whose interest in his own College was still
very keen, promoted a private " Protest " against some
features in the proposed alterations affecting Trinity
College. What became of this " Protest " I am unable
to say, but several copies bearing the signatures of
former Fellows of Trinity of about my father s standing
remain among his letters. The document is marked
" Private " and is as follows :
We, the undersigned, late Fellows of Trinity College,
Cambridge, beg respectfully to submit to the Cambridge
University Commissioners our opinion on certain points
affecting the Constitution of that Foundation, to which we
understand that their attention is directed. We cannot but
entertain a warm and lively interest in the welfare of our
College, having within a comparatively recent period partaken
largely of its benefits, and we think that our removal from the
immediate influences of the University enables us to form an
opinion peculiarly free from the suspicion of local prejudice
or partiality.
We should gladly welcome any changes which would
increase the efficiency of the College Tuition and improve
the distribution of the College Patronage, but we are con
vinced that such reforms may be successfully carried out
without disturbing the essential principles of the present
Foundation.
We believe that the important services which Trinity
College has rendered to education and literature are mainly
due to the existing system of the Scholarship and Fellowship
election and tenure. We therefore earnestly deprecate (i)
the general opening of the Scholarships and Fellowships to
University competition ; and (2) the absolute limitation of
the tenure of Fellowships to a term of years.
We are persuaded that these measures would have a
strong tendency to destroy both the corporate character of
the College and also those College sympathies and social
ties which are among the most valuable elements of a
Cambridge education; to distract the attention of students
by a variety of competitive examinations, and divert them
202 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
from a liberal and comprehensive course of reading ; to
diminish the value of Fellowships, considered as stimulants
to University education, by depriving them of that per
manence as a possible provision for life which now forms
their chief attraction ; and to discourage the free cultivation
of any purely literary or scientific studies by imposing upon
all Fellows the necessity of immediately entering upon some
remunerative occupation.
The signatories include Alfred Barry, E. W. Benson,
A. Ellis, George M. Gorham, Fenton J. A. Hort, J. B.
Lightfoot, and C. B. Scott.
In the same year visions of work at Cambridge
were first unfolded to him, and he writes to Mr.
Lightfoot :
HARROW, 26lk February 1857.
You make me almost ambitious when you speak of Cam
bridge Professorships. I often feel unsettled here, and you
ought not to make me more so. If I could ever see any
chance of such a post there is nothing I should look forward
to with more hope but I know how many men there are to
whom I must yield. However, if I could make myself not
unworthy, but castle building, vain castle-building.
In January 1859 m y father preached four sermons
before the University of Cambridge, which were
subsequently published with notes under the title
Characteristics of the Gospel Miracles. Just before
this brief renewal of his connexion with Cambridge he
had seriously considered the advisability of offering him
self for the Vice-Principalship of St. David s College,
Lampeter. In the following letter to Mr. Lightfoot
he states his reasons for abandoning the idea of
Lampeter, and seeks hospitality for the occasion of his
first sermon :
iv HARROW 203
HARROW, yd January 1859.
My dear Lightfoot First let me offer you all good
wishes of the New Year ; then let me thank you for your
kind note and the information about St. David s. You will
see by the time which has passed that I have not decided
hastily, and I trust that I have decided rightly in determining
to think no more of the office. When I first entertained
the notion I was not aware that the post included a pro
fessorship of Hebrew. It may be true that I could make
myself competent to undertake this work, but I feel that I
should not be competent at the time I made claim for the
appointment. This I hold to be a fatal bar. But more than
this, I do not think I could undertake the work at Lam peter
as a final work. My hope is a very vague hope, and one
which grows dimmer that I may come again to Cambridge,
and I should not like to go to Lampeter with the conscious
intention of leaving as soon as I could find another place.
I called Hort into counsel on the matter when we were at
St. Ippolyt s last week, and he fully confirmed me in my
decision. You will, I hope, do so too. He spoke very
kindly and frankly of my supposed chances at Cambridge.
I see clearly the difficulties there, and, with its many heavy
drawbacks, I see the advantages of Harrow. But I see no
good in anticipating a remote future.
Shall you be able to find me any resting-place on the
evening of the i5th ? I must ask you to be my tutor now.
Can t I change " sides " ? Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
The year 1859 was altogether a very crowded
one in my father s life. He had two years previously
undertaken to write articles for Dr. Smith s Bible
Dictionary r , covering the whole period from Ezra to the
times of the New Testament. The first volume of
this work appeared in the course of this year, my
father s most important contributions to it being his
articles on the Canon and on Herod. His contributions
204 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
to the whole work were very numerous, and included
lengthy articles on the New Testament and the Vulgate.
At the same time, work at the text of the New Testa
ment was not neglected, and the whole atmosphere was
charged with commentary schemes. The Commentary
originally projected by Dr. Smith, of which mention is
made in the following letter to Mr. Hort, was abandoned
in 1863 :
HARROW, $th August 1859.
. . . Hitherto my great scheme of work has not been
very successful, but I am making some progress with the
Gospels, which I had hoped to finish. St. John I revised
some time since, and, if you like, we might proceed to
compare notes by letter. For some reasons I prefer letters
to viva voce comparisons. They seem less discursive and
more deliberate. Dr. Vaughan asks me to let him have a
few remarks on the text of Romans in about three weeks,
and I shall trouble you with a draft of what I wish to say.
What a noble group you have for your historical work. In
some way or other I have contrived to gain a definite wish
at least to learn more of all the men whom you mention,
and I have much more hope of learning history truly so
as to feel it by becoming acquainted with the " individuals "
of a time than in any other way.
For Dr. Smith I have reached to the end of a first volume
(K), which is to be published in October. Of the Com
mentary I have heard nothing, for hitherto I have been
unable to attend any of the dinners where such things are
discussed. He offered Romans, I believe, to Dr. Vaughan.
Shall I say that it is almost a relief to hear you speak of
the hard trials of " routine " ? I sometimes think that I feel
them in a peculiar degree, but I fancy all life is mixed up
with them. Of all discipline they seem the hardest to bear,
and therefore perhaps the most necessary. Pardon this.
While the Dr. Smith Commentary was still in
suspense, and the later projected Commentaries of
iv HARROW 205
Rivington and The Speaker were yet in the future,
Macmillan entered the field and approached my father
on the subject. It is clear that the need of a scholarly
Biblical Commentary was very widely felt. My father
entered into Macmillan s plan, and wrote to him as
follows :
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
HARROW, 24! h November 1859.
With regard to the text and notes, I feel as if a combina
tion would be necessary. If you could persuade Mr. Light-
foot to undertake St. Paul s Epistles, I should rejoice exceed
ingly. For myself, I should be glad to reserve the writings of
St. John, including the Apokalypse, and the Epistle to the
Hebrews.
Mr. Lightfoot also viewed the proposal with favour,
but differed from my father in certain details. Here
upon my father wrote to him :
HARROW, "]th December 1859.
My dear Lightfoot The prospect of a common work
on the New Testament is one so delightful in every respect
that the differences in our plans must be very great if I, at
least, do not yield far enough to make common work possible.
Macmillan s letter reached me this morning. He seems to
be open to any scheme on which we could agree, so that for
the present we may theorise safely.
The peculiarities of your plan seem, then, as far as it is
distinguished from that which had occurred to me i. The
printing a Greek text. 2. The addition of select various
readings. 3. The printing of the English Version. The
first of these is, of course, open to no objections. Probably
we should be in close communication as to the formation of
the text, while the annotator would be finally responsible for
the text adopted in his section. Such an arrangement as
this might, I conceive, be every way productive of good.
But 2 seems to me a more difficult question. Would you
206 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
not confine yourself to readings which you regard as possibly
true as Hort and I proposed to do ? If so, then on this
we are agreed also. Otherwise it seems to me that a selec
tion of readings satisfies neither the scholar nor the ordinary
reader. But your note does not enter into details, and the
point may be left for the present. Practically I fear that I
should find the corrections which you propose in 3 difficult.
If you mark only positive blunders, then perhaps the task
would be easy j but how hard to draw the line between an
offence and a falling short. However, I do not see any
difference between us sufficiently great to render it anything
but a great pleasure to work together. If you would- prepare
a few pages, then we should have a standard for work
easily settled.
As to fellow- workers : who occur to you? Hort has
promised to undertake the Synoptists for Dr. Smith. What
else would he do ? Davies would do the Acts and Catholic
Epistles better, unless I am mistaken, than the Synoptic
Gospels. His tone, I can imagine, would differ much from
that which you or I should adopt in dealing with the Gospels,
but in these Books not so much, I fancy. Supposing the
scheme to be possible, I think that there should be some
definite outline of plan drawn up, and a general editorship.
I suggested to Macmillan that you might be willing to share
that labour with me. Our principles, I believe, would be
absolutely one. Benson just occurs to me. What do you
think of him for the Synoptists ?
On the same day my father wrote again to Mr.
Macmillan :
HARROW, ^th December 1859.
I have heard from Mr. Lightfoot on the subject of the
proposed Commentary. ... If the scheme comes to any
thing, I think a very definite plan must be drawn up for the
guidance of the work, and, as I said before, some general
editorship will be desirable to preserve general unity of tone.
Mr. Hort above all men I should welcome as a fellow-
labourer, because I know how heartily I could sympathise
IV
HARROW 207
with all his principles where in detail I might differ from him,
and so would Mr. Lightfoot. ... I confess, as you know, to
a most profound and ever-growing belief in words, and I
should rejoice if all who might share in any such Commentary
as is proposed could bring to the work an absolute faith in
language, and so in Scripture.
I should rejoice very much to hear of an English Introduc
tion to the Old Testament, and if I could be of the slightest
use in considering the outline, let me do whatever I can,
though I am indeed most incapable of giving advice except in
one or two very limited divisions.
Mr. Hort also entered into the scheme, and some
months later my father wrote him the following :
HARROW, $th May 1860.
My dear Hort I am very glad to have seen both your
note and Lightfoot s glad too that we have had such an
opportunity of openly speaking. For I too " must disclaim
setting forth infallibility" in the front of my convictions.
All I hold is, that the more I learn, the more I am convinced
that fresh doubts come from my own ignorance, and that at
present I find the presumption in favour of the absolute
truth I reject the word infallibility of Holy Scripture over
whelming. Of course I feel difficulties which at present I
cannot solve, and which I never hope to solve.
Meanwhile, until we meet, and this we evidently must do,
I shall work on with great satisfaction, beginning with St.
John s Gospel. How I shall ever have the heart to see notes
printed I cannot tell.
But I have now time only to thank you for your note.
My confession of faith you will find soon, I hope, in the
little Introduction^ which ought to be ready now. Ever yours
affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
I shall still hold my engagement to Dr. Smith for Daniel
and Apokrypha. Indeed, for the Old Testament I think his
scheme possible^ but not for the New.
208 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Thus it came to pass that the three friends, Hort,
Lightfoot, and Westcott, formed the plan of under
taking together a commentary on the whole New
Testament. 1 The scheme was that Lightfoot should
comment on the Pauline writings, Westcott on the
Johannine, and Hort on the historico-Judaic. This
general idea was never wholly abandoned. Dr. Hort
was only able to publish a very small portion of his
allotted task, but Dr. Lightfoot and my father made
very considerable progress with their portions.
In the latter part of 1859 my father, at Mr.
Lightfoot s suggestion, was seriously thinking of offer
ing himself as a candidate for the Hulsean Lectureship
in 1860. He thus wrote to his friend at Cambridge:
HARROW, yd November 1859.
My dear Lightfoot Many, many thanks for your kind
note. I have paused, you see, some time before coming to a
conclusion, but I do not see any serious reason why I should
not be a candidate for the Lectureship. I cannot hear that
any older man is a candidate, or any one to whom I should
feel bound to yield, and so I intend to offer myself in due
course. Can you tell me anything of the form ? I imagine
that it is needless to send in the name before the beginning
of December, and much might happen in the meantime to
interfere with my design. I fully feel the difficulty of the
office, but there are one or two things which I should be
glad to say, and so that one can speak what one feels to be
truth useful to oneself, there is hope that some one else may
find help in it.
Some time or other when we meet I shall be very glad to
learn what are the objectionable parts in my sermons. I
fancied that I kept wonderfully within the limits of orthodoxy:
but I trust that my object was rather to say what I felt than
to square what I said to any scheme.
1 See Life of Dr. Hort, i. 417, 418.
iv HARROW 209
We are still all in uncertainty here. Butler has not been
talked of so much lately, but I trust that his chance is not
less promising.
A few days later, however, he wrote to say that he
had given up the idea of the Lectureship, being under
the impression that Dr. Vaughan, who was just then
leaving Harrow, was likely to be a candidate. To him
my father would certainly have felt bound to yield.
Dr. Butler s election to the vacant Headmastership
of Harrow was announced on I5th November. In a
letter to an old pupil my father expresses his satis
faction :
HARROW, 2&th January 1860.
My dear Dalrymple I delayed answering your letter till I
could send you some tidings which were likely to interest you
most of Harrow and our new head. Hitherto all has been
as prosperous as could be wished. The numbers of the
school are increased, and from the first Mr. Butler has
distinctly taken his place as Sovereign. I felt some anxiety
lest he should betray any indecision or nervousness, and so
create a suspicion of weakness ; but my fears were quite
groundless. At the first Masters meeting he took Dr.
Vaughan s chair with the calmest ease, guiding all the
deliberations with the most perfect calmness and self-
command. To preach was a more trying task ; but I could
not see that his step was quicker when he went to the
pulpit, or notice any trembling in his voice when he began
his sermon. His delivery was rapid, and somewhat mono
tonous, but the composition was admirable, many of the
sentences exquisitely neat, the thoughts unusually abundant ;
and the audience was evidently deeply interested. In allud
ing to his work he spoke with singular modesty and manliness.
I am sure that you would have been pleased, and contented
to trust Harrow to his guidance.
In the summer of 1859 my father paid a visit to
VOL. I P
2io LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
" the home of his ancestors " in Devon. Some twenty
years later, when we were staying at Porlock, on the
borders of Dorset and Devon, somebody furnished our
party, which included Bishop Benson and Bishop
Lightfoot, with a picnic. On that occasion some local
magnate remarked to my father that they were restoring
their church, presumably Shobrooke, and were taking
every care of the tombs of his ancestors. I don t know
whether my father was moved to subscribe to the
restoration fund for his ancestors sake ; but he seems
to have concluded on this earlier occasion that they
needed some care. He describes his visit in full in a
letter to his wife.
To HIS WIFE
EXETER, 17^ August 1859.
My dearest Mary As we have returned from our little
stroll, and have now nothing to do, I will try to write you the
history of " A visit to the home of my ancestors." Well, to
begin at the beginning, I went to Crediton at eleven, and
having reached the station, asked the way to Shobrooke, and
in due course came to the church, which is a pretty little
building with a well-proportioned tower, snugly resting under
the crest of the hill, and looking far over a rich country. I
walked back to the Parsonage to get the keys, and met the
clergyman, with whom I had a little talk. He directed me to
notice some Norman oak carving in a part of the Gallery.
"There is nothing else," he said, "of interest in the church."
So I went again to examine the interior. The " Norman "
work proved to be Renaissance of the date of James I., but
there were some curious combinations of Gothic and Italian
details which I do not remember to have noticed elsewhere.
But I was searching for tombstones and not for architectural
details, and it was sad to see nearly all of these broken and
defaced by the erection of pews and the reflooring of part of the
church. Only one Westcott stone was tolerably perfect, and
IV
HARROW 211
even this was deprived of its ornamental termination. How
ever, there were some very good lines on the Philip Westcott
whom it commemorated, which shall serve as the moral of my
story. Having seen the church, my next object was to see
Raddon, or rather two Raddons, West Raddon and Raddon
Court. ... At last I came to West Raddon. Poor
place ! it was crushed by vast farm buildings, and scarcely
any trace of an old building remained about it. One or two
windows showed the deep splays of Elizabeth s time, but even
these were rilled with new framework. It seemed sad. West
Raddon was gone. Well, Raddon Court remained. There
was hope there. ... I was dismayed when I looked for
the old house to find a fine new building, but hope still
whispered that the old one might be in the hollow behind
the trees. A workman was busy near, and I said : "Is this
Raddon Court?" "Yes, sir; fine buildings these, sir."
But is there not another old house ? " " Jem, how long is it
since the old Court was pulled down ? " my friend asked of
his son. "Twelve years." "You ll find nothing, sir, but a
bit of the out -houses turned into these labourers cottages.
The dwelling-house was all pulled down, and where it stood
is now a garden." So hope ended. "The home of my
ancestors " has gone and left no trace. At least the future,
then, is all open. There is no Raddon to look to, as a spot
to be sought again. It has gone, and we must found for
ourselves a new home. Now for my moral :
Here lieth, etc. . . . Anno Dni. 1647, act. suae 41.
If fortune s gifts, if nature s strength
Could to thy life have added length,
Philip, thou hadst not been so soone
Brought here to bed before thy noone.
But casuall things away soone fly,
Only thy vertues never dye ;
Sleep then in peace here till thy dust
Have resurrection with the just.
SOLA VIRTUS EXPERS SEPULCHRIS.
212 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
This Philip Westcott is reported to have been a
scholar. My father once purchased an ancient tome
a Bible, I believe and found therein the name of
Philip Westcott.
In February 1 860 Essays and Reviews was published.
This volume contained seven Essays written by various
authors, and described itself as " an attempt to illustrate
the advantage derivable to the cause of religious and
moral truth from a free handling, in a becoming spirit,
of subjects peculiarly liable to suffer by the repetition
of conventional language, and from traditional methods
of treatment." Amongst the seven authors were
included Professor Jowett and Dr. Temple, at that
time Headmaster of Rugby. By the appearance of
this work my father was greatly moved. He felt it
to be imperative that the position taken up by the
essayists should be seriously and reasonably assailed.
He was most indignant with the Bishops for merely
shrieking at the Essays, and declares that the language
of Bishop Prince Lee about the Essays roused his
indignation beyond expression. He was most anxious
that Lightfoot and Hort should join with him in
preparing a reply to the controverted volume. For
his own part, he felt this to be so important that he
would gladly lay aside all other work that he might
be free to point out some via media. His letters of
the time are full of this matter ; but he was not content
with writing only. He and Lightfoot together had
an interview with Dean Stanley on the subject of
Dr. Temple and the Headmastership of Rugby.
The following are extracts from letters bearing on
this subject :
,v HARROW 213
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
6th August 1860.
The other day I had a note about a series of essays on
the aspects of Revelation which are designed as a kind of
informal protest against Essays and Reviews. At first I could
only say that I would have nothing to do with controversy
that it seemed to me that to state the simple truth was the
best refutation of error ; but that if free scope were given I
might be glad to do anything I could to maintain what I hold
to be very precious truth. It occurred to me that you too
might not be unwilling to join in some such scheme ; and I
thought also of asking Lightfoot, but I do not by any means
know yet whether such a form as I propose would meet the
objects of those who started the scheme, particularly as it was
in the first instance in the hands of , in whose judgment
I have not the greatest confidence. But I had pondered
independently the possibility of some such plan before, and
if anything is to be done, it is something at any rate to know
where you are.
Briefly, it is quite evident that a great battle for truth must
come soon, and that every one must as a first duty, if he sees
anything of Truth, or honestly thinks that he does, arm himself
to the best of his ability. I do not underrate purely critical
work, yet I should grieve to think that you are wholly devoted
to it. I feel sure that there are yet other fields on which we
are bound NOW to spend some time and with definite aims.
The Guardian notice, if it did no other good, made me feel
how wide a chasm there is between me and those with whom
I would have gladly worked, and I am more and more inclined
to think that something might be done by a series of pre
liminary essays to our Commentary. I have not spoken to
Lightfoot yet, but I think it is needful to show that there is a
mean between Essays and Reviews and Traditionalism. From
all that I see of younger men, I am satisfied that there is
good reason to hope yet, and great reason to fear from
Comtism. You will see how hastily I am writing, but indeed
this is no epicurism. I tremble to think of writing on some
214 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
topics, and yet silence can hardly be kept much longer,
though to break it will be to express only partial truth.
HARROW, i$th December 1860.
It is precisely because our position is growing unpopular
and suspected that I am very anxious to speak at once and
support it. The Essays and Reviews precipitate a crisis, and
even an imperfect expression of opinion is better than silence.
Just now I think we might find many ready to welcome the
true mean between the inexorable logic of the Westminster
and the sceptical dogmatism of orthodoxy. At any rate,
I am sure that there is a true mean, and that no one has
asserted its claims on the allegiance of faithful men. Now, I
think that Lightfoot, you, and I are in the main agreed, and
I further think that with our convictions we are at such a
time bound to express them. The subjects which had
occurred to me are (i) The development of the doctrine
of Messiah, including the discussion of the selection of one
people out of many. (2) Miracles and history. (3) The
development of Christian doctrine out of the apostolic
teaching. In other words, I should like to have the Incar
nation as a centre, and on either side the preparation for it,
and the apprehension of it in history. These subjects, I
confess, seem to me to be distinct from a Commentary, and
far more fitted for separate discussion. If we combined we
might severally have to make some sacrifices, but the case
demands it.
To THE REV. J. B. LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, 20* h December 1860.
Let me introduce myself to you in the character of an
agitator. Possibly Hort has written to you on a subject on
which I feel very deeply. It seems to me that we ought, with
as little delay as possible, to write some essays preliminary to
the Commentary. I do not care much for Essays and Reviews
in themselves, but they precipitate a division ; and a reaction
more perilous than scepticism seems already setting in. Now
iv HARROW 215
I think that we can make good a position equally removed
from sceptical dogmatism and unbelief. I enclose a note
from Hort, and he probably may have sent you one of mine
in answer to his objections. I do trust that you will view the
matter as we do. The need seems to be urgent, and silence
is now, I think, positively wrong.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, tyh February 1861.
I have been thinking much what can be done about the
reckless assaults on Essays and Reviews. First I thought of
a protest ; then it was suggested to write to Dr. Jelf. Can
you think of anything ? For Mr. Wilson I cannot say one
word. But I do feel that the attacks made on Jowett (much
as I think him in error) can only end in injuring the Truth.
Does any practicable plan occur to you ? As it is, I can only
speak as I have opportunity.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
HARROW, zyh February 1861.
Of all cares, almost the greatest which I have had has been
Essays and Reviews and its opponents. The controversy is
fairly turning me grey. I look on the assailants of the
Essayists, from Bishops downwards, as likely to do far more
harm to the Church and the Truth than the Essayists. The
only result of such a wild clamour must be to make people
believe that the voice of authority alone, and not of calm
reason, can meet the theories of the Essayists, and thus to
wholly give up Truth, and the love of it, to the other side.
It would be impossible to find opinions more opposed to my
own than those of the Essayists, and for this very reason, I
am most anxious to see the error calmly and clearly pointed
out, and not merely shrieked at. As far as I have seen,
those who have written against the Essayists have been pro
foundly ignorant of the elements of the difficulties out of
which the Essays have sprung.
216 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
After much anxious consideration Lightfoot decided
that he could not join in this undertaking, and his
defection led to the abandonment of the scheme.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
30^ March 1861.
It is a sad defection, and I hardly see how we can carry
out the scheme. Lightfoot was a good mediator between us,
and his part was a necessary element. I can think of no
one who could take his place, and I fear we should alone be
unequal to the task.
In December 1860 my father visited Oxford in order
to take an Ad Eundem degree, and so gain access to
Oxford s literary treasures. He was the guest of Dr.
Jeune during his stay there, and appears to have
thoroughly enjoyed his visit. The following extracts
from letters which he wrote thence will give an idea of
some of his Oxford impressions and experiences :
OXFORD, i%th, igt/i, and 2oth December.
. . . Oxford quite overpowers prejudice. It is not in its
general effect at all what I fancied that it would be, though
every building by itself seems familiar. . . . We wandered
down to Magdalen. The tower and bridge you must re
member ; and looking over cloisters I could hardly wonder
that Elmsley the great Greek scholar when pressed to say
what would have been his highest wish for life, said, "To
have been President of Magdalen." (He was an Oxford
man, and did not, perhaps, know of Trinity.)
... It so happened that a Mr. Senior was staying with Dr.
Jeune. He is a famous man, a great lawyer and political
economist ; a man who knows every one from the Queen to
the Pope . . . We got on very well together. By this time
I have grown well used to paradoxes, and am not prepared
iv HARROW 217
to run against every one s angles and bruise myself. Indeed,
there was much to learn from Mr. Senior, and Dr. Jeune
extracted admirable anecdotes and sayings, which would
enrich me for a year, could I but remember them. . . .
Every one is busy with controversy, and one gentleman
announced that "the feelings of scorn and contempt were
given us by Almighty God to wither such empty sciolists as "
Darwin and all naturalists in a mass. . . .
Dr. Jeune introduced me to Dr. Pusey, one of the few
men I was anxious to see. He had, I believe, never been in
Dr. Jeune s drawing-room before. It was a study, as you
may imagine, to watch him and Mr. Senior together. Gentle
ness and simplicity were well matched with cynicism and wit.
" What a face ! " said Mr. Senior, speaking of a portrait in a
book he was reading ; " why, he is Puritanism incarnate. He
looks like a man who would deny every word of every one of
the Thirty-nine Articles." Dr. Pusey could not but look at
the ominous face, and closed the book with a quaint smile.
There was some talk of a famous collection of MSS. which
has been offered to the University. " But," said Dr. Pusey,
"we have always heard that there are bailiffs about the
house." "Oh, then," said Mr. Senior, "tell the owner to
close the bargain at once, and he will have the double pleasure
of benefiting his University and cheating his creditors."
In the evening we had graver talk, and I was amazed at
the acuteness and ready vigour of a man, near seventy I am
told, who knows Homer and Horace better than I do, and
beneath a surface of raillery has high aspirations after truth.
The great event this morning was my admission ad eundem.
The ceremony was dignified. I shone in a red hood, and,
preceded by three maces (I never had such honour at Cam
bridge), was led to the Vice-Chancellor, who was throned in
state and supported by the Proctors. The Oxford mathe
matician presented me, and I was declared to have the
privilege of " reading " and teaching and many other things
which I could hardly follow. The first was the one I wished
to exercise, and so I went immediately to the Bodleian.
There I saw the great MS., found an error in Tischendorf
(how pleasant !), ascertained the character of another MS.
which is a great favourite of Hort s, and spent there three
218 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
very pleasant hours. The Librarian, Mr. Coxe, is a most
kind man.
When, in 1 86 1, the Hulsean Professorship of Divinity
at Cambridge became vacant, my father felt that he
ought to be a candidate for the office. It had long
been his cherished hope that he might one day be per
mitted to occupy such a position. He was convinced
that he had a message to deliver, and was, moreover,
specially anxious at this time to vindicate his orthodoxy.
He believed that the charges of being " unsafe " and of
" Germanising " brought against him were unjust, and
though the change would have involved a considerable
sacrifice of income, he thought that it was his duty to
avail himself of the present opportunity, and bear the
pecuniary loss. He did not at first realise that his
friend, Mr. Lightfoot, whom he believed to be quite
satisfied with his present position as Tutor of Trinity,
was also inclined to be a candidate. When each of
the two friends became aware of the other s feelings a
generous contest arose, which resulted in my father s
withdrawal and Mr. Lightfoot s candidature, as it was
agreed that the latter had the better chance of election.
Mr. Lightfoot was, in fact, elected, but declared that he
would not be content until my father also was established
at Cambridge. Thus it was that when some ten years
later the Regius Professorship of Divinity became
vacant, Dr. Lightfoot, contrary to general expectation,
declined to be a candidate, but instead thereof, de
voted himself heartily and successfully to securing
my father s election. The following letters to Mr.
Lightfoot illustrate this incident of the Hulsean Pro
fessorship :
iv HARROW 219
HARROW, 2 jtk September 1861.
My dear Lightfoot I wrote a letter to you to Cambridge,
which I directed not to be forwarded, about the Professorship,
fearing that it might make many idle journeys otherwise.
The subject has occupied very much of my thoughts, and I
cannot see my way very clearly. I can say honestly that if I
wish the place, it is only because I feel that I have something
to say and do there, for the material sacrifice would be great,
which to me is a very serious matter. But, on the whole, I
think that if I am not now to offer myself, I should virtually
abandon all hope for the future, and acquiesce in a charge of
unsound opinions which is most unjust. If I could secure
hope for the future, and protest against false judgment in any
other way, I should most gladly do so, but unless I can, I
feel that I ought to be ready to make the sacrifice which the
chance of success involves. You will see that I am not
sanguine or careful for the issue, and if you, knowing my
reasons, think I should be more wise in waiting still longer, I
shall thankfully acquiesce in your judgment. My fear is lest
I may allow purely personal and family considerations to
influence me when I owe a debt to Truth. As I have said
before, you, I think, can do more good where you are, and you
are in Cambridge, and I should deeply regret seeing you away
from your Tutorship.
I shall be in no hurry to send in my name, and I shall
wait to know your opinion as to my grounds for standing.
However the matter may end, I shall feel quite satisfied.
HARROW, %th October 1861.
My dear Lightfoot We have in part misunderstood one
another, I think, but the misunderstanding tends on the whole
to clearer after -views. Personally, as I have said, there is
no situation in the world which I should (if I dare indulge a
wish) more covet than a theological professorship at Cam
bridge. So far from being indifferent, I am perhaps so eager
as to distrust my instincts. Yet I cannot say that I should
not prefer it five years hence if one may look forward. I
220 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
am only not prepared to say for ever farewell to the hope
which has hitherto been cherished since I was capable of
feeling it.
Thus much of myself. But, on the other hand, I cannot
but fancy that you may have some wishes pointing to an un
shackled position at Cambridge. If so, I heartily accept
your wishes as deciding my choice. We both wish to have
our judgment decided by circumstances, and such a circum
stance I should welcome at once as deciding me. When I
say welcome it is a true word. I assumed that you found as
complete a prospect of happiness in your Tutorship as I knew
that you found in it a useful work. What you say now makes
me doubt this, and the slightest confirmation of my suspicions
will be sufficient to end all suspense.
These delays will not, I think, be any prejudice to either
of us. Any one who cares may know that one of us will be
a candidate. I have made no secret of my own doubts here.
HARROW, iqth October 1861.
My dear Lightfoot As far as I am concerned, I am
entirely and honestly in earnest. There is no doubt, as far
as I can learn, that you have a better chance, and I should
in sincerity rejoice more in your success than in my own.
Only if it could be shown that I ought to come forward to
represent a principle (to " protest " in my old unhappy phrase)
could I be willing to do so. This is, I am satisfied, impossible.
A resident only would be able to contend against an Arch
deacon, and I am sure that I should be opposed strongly on
party grounds, which you would not be. Your generosity
again is leading you to overrate my chances, which I never
overrated myself.
I am indeed quite clear. If you like to defer your own
decision for the occurrence of any impossible chance, let it
be so, but I have mentioned here quite openly what my
decision is.
It is RIGHT, I am sure.
iv HARROW 221
HARROW, 2%tk October 1861.
My dear Lightfoot My joy at the tidings which you sent
me yesterday was the greater because all I heard from Cam
bridge tended to extinguish hope. Now, however, I do not
despair of the University. ... I repeat what I said from the
first, that my only wish was that some one should fill the place
who would speak what he believed, and believe what his
conscience and reason dictated. This wish is wholly fulfilled.
It only remains to wish you, as I do with all my heart,
every blessing in the prosecution of your work, than which I
know none nobler or more promising. Ever yours affection
ately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
The following extracts from letters to Mr. Hort deal
with the same matter :
HARROW, ^of/t September 1861.
. . . The thought of the Hulsean has occupied me very
much. It would be a very great material loss, which, with a
large young family, I can hardly bear, but then I think that
I ought to be ready to do what I can at Cambridge ; and I
am the more anxious, perhaps, because I am supposed to
"Germanise." I have written to Lightfoot and wait his
answer. What do you counsel? I am quite free, I hope,
from ambitious views. I only wish not to be moved by
selfishness on either side. .
HARROW, ityh October 1861.
... I could well interpret your silence, and now that
my decision was made it was a great comfort to have your
support, and that of Mayor s letter. The intrigue seems
very discreditable to the University, and I can hardly under
stand s motives, who ought to know better. How
ever, I will not despair of Lightfoot and the final triumph
of Truth.
222 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To Mr. Wickenden he says :
HARROW, 26tk October 1861.
: . . I was much occupied with anxious thoughts about
the possible duty of offering myself for the Hulsean Professor
ship at Cambridge. I had little wish, and no hope, for
success, but I was inclined to protest against the imputations
of heresy and the like which have been made against me.
However, after careful consultation with Lightfoot, we decided
that he should stand and not I. The election is just over,
and I fear the worst. It seems that has busied himself
to secure the exclusion of Lightfoot or me as "unsafe" men,
and at the last he succeeded in persuading to come for
ward, who, as he has never paid any attention to theology,
has (of course) no prejudices. The feeling in Cambridge,
when I last heard, was that would be elected by private
influence. If this has proved to be the case, the University
is sadly disgraced. For my own part, it was a great relief to
be left quietly here. With our host of little children it would
have been a hard struggle to live at Cambridge ; yet to live is
not the end of living. . . .
Thus vanished the prospect of a move to Cam
bridge ; and it was willed that my father should con
tinue his work at Harrow for another period of nine
years.
The following letters belong to the first nine years
of his Harrow residence :
To Miss WHITTARD
HARROW, 7th May [1852],
... On Tuesday I went a most delightful walk. I found
a really green lane, and the progress the trees have made
during the last few days is wonderful. One field attracted me
from a long distance by the display of cowslips, and as I was
iv HARROW 223
enjoying the sunshine and the shining of " earth s stars," a
little bird flew from the hedge just by me, and as I carefully
looked I saw another sitting on her nest, faithful and yet
fearing. How brightly her little black eyes glanced at me ;
and how closely she brooded over her charge ! You may
easily fancy that I took care not to frighten her, and I felt
quite joyous to be near one so true and loving. Even now I
can see the twinkling of her eyes as she followed mine. Very
little things gladden us. Just before I had picked up a nest
which had been robbed, and looked at it wistfully ; what a
contrast it made with that still guarded by love ! . . .
HARROW, i8//z Sunday after Trinity, 1852.
. . . To-day I have again taken up Tracts for the Times
and Dr. Newman. Don t tell me that he will do me harm.
At least to-day he will, has done me good, and had you been
here I should have asked you to read his solemn words to me.
My purchase has already amply repaid me. I think I shall
choose a volume for one of my Christmas companions.
My thoughts have chiefly run in the direction of a saying
of Origen s, which I must quote for you. He is speaking of
the Transfiguration, and he adds : " The Word has different
forms, manifesting Himself to each as it is expedient for him,
and to no one is He manifested in a higher degree than the
subject of the revelation can comprehend." I wish I could
give you any notion of the charms of the original ; yet you
will find out its meaning, for the thought must be familiar. It
seems from the Gospels as if our Blessed Lord even hid Him
self from the unbelieving in mercy and love lest they should
aggravate their guilt ; and so conversely to each one of us He
unfolds Himself more and more clearly as we strive painfully
and prayerfully to penetrate into that which He sets before
us. . . .
To F. J. A. HORT, ESQ.
HARROW, \tyh July [1852].
My dear Hort To plunge at once in medias res, and to
defend myself from your charge, do you think that
224 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
is ever used in the New Testament in the sense of the Eng
lish " mystery " ? I think not ; but just now I cannot collect
my notions on its usage. I should, however, regard i Cor.
v. i (sic) l as giving the right type of its meaning.
You must not praise me prematurely. At present Maurice is
unread, for I have but little time on my hands. I cannot even
promise when I shall satisfy you in that respect. Perhaps I
am afraid still of adopting what I should find out for myself.
One book lately has interested me very much the Life of
Wordsworth. Much as I value his poems, I cannot love the
man. He seems to me a very English Goethe. How could
he write so much without the impress of Christianity ? How
could he speak of " Nature " as he does if he had felt that Trao-a
KTICTIS travaileth and groaneth with man for his new birth and
its own restoration. But this is not all. His egotism is
wholly Goethe -like. You probably know his letter to Lady
Beaumont in defence of his poems ; and do you not think
that there is much in it unworthy of him ? We can all thank
fully acknowledge all that he and Goethe have done for us,
but need we love them ? . . . How much I should like to
talk with you about boy-nature. Sometimes I am tempted to
define a boy as " a being in whom the idea of honour exists
only potentially." Truly one grows sad often at what experi
ence teaches, and now I begin to understand Arnold s terrible
words. Will you accept this wretched apology for a note ?
Ever, my dear Hort, yours very affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To E. W. BENSON, ESQ.
HARROW, 24^ September [1852].
My dear Benson Shall I frankly confess to you that I
have long felt more than half angry with you ? It was only
late and casually that I heard you were at Rugby, and, per
haps unreasonably, I had hoped to hear from you that your
Cambridge life was ended. But now I have told you this, let
me congratulate you most heartily on the work that lies before
you. I know that you have long looked on Rugby with
1 ii. I, iv. i?
iv HARROW 225
intense affection, and may you be blessed wholly in your
endeavours to make it like the ideal you cherish. I am very
ignorant of the details of your system, but I suppose it is like
our own ; and in that case I can fully understand how you will
enjoy the variety of reading and intellect and development
with which one is brought into contact. My own satisfaction
at my own position is as great as ever. . . .
You kindly ask about my reading. It goes on as well, on
the whole, as it did at Cambridge. I have written much on
the Epistles, and I hope to get the essay finished before very
long ; but to-day I have received a very heavy packet of Mait-
land exercises which will cause a break in my own pursuits for
a little time.
In studying the Apokalypse, have you paid any great atten
tion to the application of the theory of a " double sense " ?
It has always seemed to me absolutely necessary to maintain
this for the right understanding of the book. But on this
point my views are perhaps extreme.
This note has been written under the most adverse circum
stances. I was anxious to write soon to assure you how
often I have thought of you and your work. All kind
remembrances to Evans. Ever very affectionately yours,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
The work on the Epistles mentioned in the above
letter is The Apostolic Harmony^ which my father had
projected as a companion to The Gospel Harmony , but
did not publish.
To Miss WHITTARD
(On the Funeral of the Duke of Wellington)
HARROW, igtb November [1852].
It is quite impossible, my dearest Mary, to give you any
idea of what I saw and felt yesterday and of what I did not
feel. The day was fine after sunrise, and outwardly there
was nothing to mar one s pleasure. I started at about five in
VOL. I Q
226 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the morning with some friends in a fly, and when we reached
town the streets were already alive with footmen and horse
men cabs and omnibuses, which plied for a guinea and a
shilling respectively. We reached Ludgate Hill at about
half-past seven, and then I left my friends struggling with the
crowd, and passed up Newgate Street to the north door of St.
Paul s. The entrances were not open, but as the rain had
now ceased and the sun was fairly risen, we stood waiting for
about an hour with tolerable good-humour, which, in my case
at least, was greatly increased by my endeavour to imitate
the pleasant zeal of a policeman s endurance, who cheered us
with continual assurances that the door would soon be open.
So in truth it was opened at last, and we all rushed in, and
were lost in a maze of wooden supports and a sea of black
cloth. I ran recklessly up the first staircase I saw, and found
myself a member of the Corporation of London. This not
being my true character, I effected a retreat, and remembering
that I had to go to the South Transept, I followed the clue of
a labyrinthine set of passages and gained the South. Here I
took the staircase which was pointed out to me, only, how
ever, to be ranged among the peers ; and feeling that I was
no more a bishop than an alderman, by the help of a good-
natured attendant I scrambled over a low partition and
gained my true seat, which was as good as it could be, in the
centre of the lowest gallery, commanding a full view of the in
terior, and directly in front of the place of interment. It was
now about eight o clock, and the Cathedral was soon full.
Till half-past twelve we spent our time in watching successive
arrivals. Sir C. Napier fixed my attention more than any
one. I can see his fine head and snowy hair and beard even
now, and it was a touching sight to see him totter along. I
noticed the Bishop of Manchester and Chevalier Bunsen, who
for different reasons interested me by their manner and
occupations. Every one seemed tacitly to assume that we
were in a churchyard and not in a church, and behaved
accordingly. The deputation from Cambridge, I grieve to
say, wore their caps, with one or two exceptions. The
officers generally wore their hats or helmets. The barristers
improvised caps for the occasion by tying knots at the four
corners of their handkerchiefs, like this ; and the M.P. s
IV
HARROW 227
varied the fashion, like this. Ladies ate sandwiches, and
gentlemen drank wine. All this, doubtless, resulted from the
length of time we had to wait and from the coldness of the
morning. Still, it had a somewhat unpleasant effect, and
one s organ of reverence was diminished. Time, however,
wore on, and at length a flourish of trumpets announced the
arrival of the procession. By this time the windows of the
Dome were partly darkened, and the line of gaslights which
ran along the cornice and round the inner gallery of the Dome
glowed like a glorious ray of sunshine all round the building.
Every part, far away to the roof, was crowded with eager
faces. The deep mourning and sombre dresses were relieved
by the bright uniforms, and it was a grand sight when the
Chapter and the white-robed choir in number about 200
walked to the west door to meet the cortege. That moment
rewarded one for hours of headache and expectation. One
by one the great people came Speaker and mace, Lord
Mayor and sword, Judges, Lord Chancellor and mace, Prince
Albert. Then there was a long pause. At last voices were
heard far off chanting the opening verses of the service, and
nearer and nearer they came, louder and louder grew the
anthem, and as they came again round the Dome the bier was
with them, and on it the coffin and the marshal s hat. Before
it was borne the coronet and baton. Every one seemed
moved now, and, indeed, how could it be otherwise. We
thought who lay there, and what he had been, and what he
was, and what he would be. The solemn music continued.
The coffin was transferred to a stage erected in the centre.
The pall-bearers and old friends grouped round it, bearing
banners and nobler ensigns still in their white hair and
shattered forms. The Dead March was played, and silently
and slowly the stage descended. The march was finished,
and now no more was to be seen of him who was the Duke
. of Wellington. All had vanished coffin, coronet, and baton.
A marshal proclaimed the names and titles he had borne ;
his steward broke his staff, and it was cast into the grave.
Again the music of many voices rose. And last came the
glorious Chorale from the St. Paul. Then the Bishop of
London gave his blessing, and all was over.
228 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
HARROW, 29^ September 1853.
Dear Mr. Macmillan You must allow me to thank you
again for speaking of Neuss book. The new edition was
published in two parts the first part at the beginning of this
year, and the second quite lately. The old edition I never
saw, though it was known to me by name.
I like the appearance of Mr. Hardwick s book very much,
and I wish that I was able to give a judgment worth anything
upon its merits. I only trust that its successors may be as
good. I hope to send you the Introduction on the Canon
before long. It is in the process of " writing out," but
necessarily goes on slowly. Ever very truly yours,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
I do not think that I have thanked you for the copy of
the review in the Eclectic, which you kindly sent to me. I
shall be glad to have any suggestions for the improvement of
the Introduction to the Gospels, and most glad to receive any
corrections of mistakes or faults.
To F. J. A. HORT, ESQ.
HARROW, izth October 1853.
... As to our proposed recension of the New Testament
text, our object would be, I suppose, to prepare a text for
common and general use in schools, for instance. With such
an end in view, would it not be best to introduce only certain
emendations into the received text, and to note in the margin
such as seem likely or noticeable after Griesbach s manner ?
Such a book would, I think, do great good. The question
of orthography is difficult. Do you think that it is worth
while to desert the later spelling in a book for general use ?
No one would print a Bible now with the orthography of
James First s time except as a literary curiosity. The matter
might be discussed in the preface once for all. But here
again I shall be glad to know your own notions. I feel most
iv HARROW 229
keenly the disgrace of circulating what I feel to be falsified
copies of Holy Scripture, and am most anxious to provide
something to replace them. This cannot be any text resting
solely on our own judgment, even if we were not too in
experienced to make one but it must be supported by a clear
and obvious preponderance of evidence. The margin will
give ample scope for our own ingenuity or principles. In
the arrangement of paragraphs I think we might follow our
own judgment entirely. I think that I should use Lloyd s
Testament as the basis both for text and division, as my wish
would be to leave the popular received text except where it is
clearly wrong. But on all this, as I have already said, I
shall be glad to know your opinion. But pray think how
utterly ignorant and prejudiced even well-informed men are
on the text of the New Testament. I dare not trust myself
to use names.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
HARROW, itfh November [1854].
. . . Have you entered into the Maurice controversy ? I
only hope it may pass away quietly. At the first onset
we always strike blindly ; and much evil would result from
the public discussion of the moot points just now. It is well,
I believe, that they have been named ; and it will be well for
men to get familiarised with them. Then at length they may
debate if they please. This is a strange symptom of belief
or disbelief that Mr. Maurice s views on the Atonement
seem to have called forth comparatively little criticism.
What are we to think of the new contest between the
Crescent and the Cross ? What would our forefathers say
to us ? A renegade Christian for Commander and the two
greatest Christian powers for allies. Who then shall malign
Islam ? But are not the Greeks indeed dead ?
HARROW, >]th December [1854].
My dear Frederic Harrow is dissolved the school, I
mean, and not the hill, which holds out still against the rain
230 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
most valiantly. Gould the noisy and Marshall the unready
are gone. Sandars the interrogative and Burdon the
demonstrative are gone. Meek the cold -handed is gone.
Pretor the clear-headed is gone. I too the much-scheming
am going.
12s <f>a@ * * ot 8* apa TOV paXa /xei/ K\VOV r)8 i^d
aT\f>a 8* eTrciTa TTCTOVTO /cara TrroXw 2 evpvdyviav
0e(r7re(T6>7 Kpavyrj vftapayei 8e re 8utjJLaB
e rav, e/cTrpcTrees, ox^Kecrcriv lot/cores ca
X/OIKTOS $ os fjud\a Tracrav 6fj,r)\iKir)v KKa(TTO
re Kavyr) re* ^>7;A.a^ 8 eVer* a6
T veoov Trai/Twv /^ey a/owrros
T
8 apa TT/JWTO? <j>avOrj,
b 8e//,as,
1 The Headmaster on last morning (Schol. Harr.).
2 Harrow emphasis gratia.
This is a Homeric fragment. I hope you can scan it ; I
won t attempt to do so. The MS. is sadly defaced, but I can
see some allusion to the wasp jersey of our house, and a good
scholiast could doubtless explain it all.
Even now I have scarcely realised your disappearance. I
never likened Moorsom to a fairy, but he certainly carried
you off in a fairy-like fashion. I am not quite sure that I
will pardon you till I have a full account of the "super
natural " phenomenon which must have accompanied your
evanishment. It is but just to say that I did not smell the
odour of hempseed in the house. I am sure the Greek lines
will be as good as another whole sheet of words. Fancy that
they form a paper in a little room
Pray excuse a very hasty, wild, rambling note.
" Remember " us, I need not say. Ever believe me, very
affectionately yours, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
iv HARROW 231
To HIS WIFE
TRINITY COLLEGE, Good Friday, 1855.
This morning I went to hear the Hulsean Lecturer. He
preached on the Atonement. But who is equal to such a
subject? All he said was very good, but then he did not
enter into the great difficulties of the notion of sacrifice and
vicarious punishment. To me it is always most satisfactory
to regard the Christian as in Christ absolutely one with
Him, and then he does what Christ has done: Christ s
actions become his, and Christ s life and death in some
sense his life and death. Don t you think that this is the
real answer to the difficulties ? or do I not make myself
clear ?
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
K)thjuly [1855].
My dear Mr. Macmillan I am growing anxious to
have the last sheets from the printers. Our examination
begins next week, and I shall be hard pressed to correct
them. Will you forward to them the adjoined addendum to
be inserted in its proper place among the others.
I hope, if all be well, to make good progress with
the revision of my old Essay. 1 My present scheme is the
following :
Introduction Nearly the same.
Chap. I. Relation of Evangelical Literature to the
first age.
Chap. II. The special History of the Fourth Can
onical Gospel.
Chap. III. = (I.).
Chap. IV. = (II.).
Chap. V. = (III.).
Chap. VI. = (IV.).
1 Elements of the Gospel Harmony, which was at this time being shaped
into An Introduction to the Study of the Gospels.
232 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Chap. VII. The Parables and Miracles as wholes (old
App. C., D.).
Chap. VIII. - (V.).
Chap. IX. Relation of Fourth Gospel to Apocryphal
and Heretical Gospels.
Appendix A (extended).
Appendix B ) The facts of our Our Lord s Life implied
Appendix C j in Epistles.
I shall be very glad of any suggestions, corrections, etc.,
before 1 begin to work. In great haste, ever yours sincerely,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, zythjuly [1855].
My dear Mr. Macmillan I have added one or two
names to the list for presentation copies. 1 I shall be glad if
you will send on my account I mean, from my copies a
copy to Mr. Scott, Mr. Davies, and Mr. Vaughan. I wish I
could send to more of my Cambridge friends, but I have
many home claims.
You will perhaps kindly see to the binding of the presenta
tion copy for the Bishop of Manchester. I liked the binding
of my father s copy last time very much, if you remember
that. But I know that I may trust to your taste.
Though the work has been very wearying and disjointed,
I seem to feel now like one who has just lost a friend ready
to talk at every moment and fill up all the idle moments of
one s life ; but I suppose that I shall soon find some new
friend to fill up the place of the old one.
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
HARROW, 1st September [1855].
My dear Lightfoot We reached home only yesterday
evening after a month s sojourn at Filey, or I should not so
long have delayed to send you a copy of my poor long-
1 Of the essay on the Canon of the New Testament.
iv HARROW 233
delayed Essay. You know how much it owes to your hospi
tality, and I can only hope that it may seem in any way
worthy of a connexion with Neville s Court.
I am now fairly engaged on a new edition of my old
Essay. Of course it will be much changed, but I hope to
retain whatever there is of good in the first edition. Mean
while I am anxious to learn all I can of the Jewish (?) litera
ture of the Apostolic age, and you can tell me better than
any one else where to look for some account of it. ... You
would have admired my geological diligence during the past
four weeks. I became a determined stone-breaker, and have
gained a fair knowledge of the Upper Oolite strata of York
shire, and the shale beds of Gristhorpe.
While thinking still of Philo, I must say how much I have
been struck with the ability of Jowett s book. Of course I
must wholly dissent from his views of Scripture language, and
all the deductions which he draws from its uncertainty. But
notwithstanding this, it is a book of greater thought, and more
real wisdom than any which I have read for years. Don t
you think so? I wish he were not so cold, but one must
pardon manner. I should say that I am speaking of the
Essays, and not of the Commentary, which I like very much
less. What a contrast there is between Jowett and Stanley.
But I must not scribble more now.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
HARROW, i$tA September [1855?].
. . . Will you not excuse me if I decline to attempt to
settle any chronological point in the Gospels ? The data are
far too uncertain to give more than a probable conclusion ;
and in many cases the order of time is wholly hopelessly
uncertain. How much I should like to have been in some
closet to listen to your discussion of aldtv. What unorthodox
groans would have issued from the recess quarter? How
certainly I should have been proclaimed heretic ! I do hope
you furnished the good people with a Bruder. . . .
234 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To HIS MOTHER
HARROW, i6tk December 1855.
My dear Mamma What an inexcusably bad correspondent
you must think me. I feel almost bound to give you an
account of the way in which I have spent all my time since
you sent your long note. . . .
This evening for the first time I am quiet and alone.
Louey and Tiny are, I hope, safe and well at Bristol. Katie
keeps me company, and is wonderfully well. She paid me a
visit after dinner, and was lost in deep contemplation of her
solitary importance. You may fancy that I have grown rather
impatient at being kept here. We do hope to leave on
Wednesday; but on Friday a note came, in which Mr. S.
objected to his son leaving so soon. I answered it somewhat
sharply. Mr. S. has throughout expressed very little con
sideration for us. and I should be sorry for him to think that
it is either a common or an easy thing to lose one week out
of five. To-morrow I suppose I shall hear from him again.
At any rate Louey and Tiny will be with you on Wednesday,
and Tiny will be more amusement to you, I fancy, than any
thing else. You must finish her alphabet learning, for her
notions as to many letters are singularly indefined ; moreover,
she still confounds (wilfully, I fear) the bear and the lion, and
thereby favours the Russians. . . .
My solitary housekeeping seems quite strange to me. I
have not been alone before, and have lost most of my
bachelor independence, and have a tendency to forget the
sugar in my tea or some other equally important matter.
Perhaps it is fortunate that my dinner is brought to me with
out any order of mine, or I might forget that.
Love to all, and all good wishes, which I shall hope to
repeat in person. Ever your most affectionate son.
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, 6th April [1859].
My dear Hort I cannot believe that we differ about
the "ideal Christian," or the Christian ideally rather. It
iv HARROW 235
must be some clumsiness in my way of expressing myself. I
quote all the passages which you quote in support of my
view, and especially notice the aorists. Have you not mis
understood my use of the word " ideal " ? Each Christian,
so far as he is a Christian, is an ideal Christian, or rather is
such by partaking in the iSea. In "idea" he is one with
Christ, and all that Christ did he did in Christ. But the
work of all life is to realise this idea. I have made an altera
tion in the note to bring out my meaning more clearly, and
added two of your references and one other which shows the
aorist in contrast with the present.
I am obliged to write in the midst of "Trial," for I should
indeed be sorry if we differ on such a point, which is one of
my central beliefs. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
I shall now give you very little more trouble, if any.
When will you let me repay the office ?
The above letter is in reply to some criticisms of
Mr. Hort on a passage in my father s Characteristics of
the Gospel Miracles , pp. IO6-IO7. 1
The following letter to Mr. Wickenden refers to
the index to the Introduction to the Study of the Gospels,
prepared by him, and to an adverse criticism of The
Characteristics of the Gospel Miracles, which had ap
peared in the Literary Churchman. It may be re
marked in passing that these Cambridge sermons were
somewhat severely handled by too orthodox critics, and
did not obtain a wide circulation. It was mainly on
their account, I believe, that my father laboured under
the imputation of being " unsafe."
HARROW, \zth March 1860.
My dear Frederic Many, many thanks for the great
trouble which you have taken ; many, many regrets for
1 See Dr. Hort s Life* i. 407.
236 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the offending varieties of division. It is too late, I fear, to
alter them in the text, but you will, I think, find all come
out tolerably clearly in the table of contents. The correc
tions which you kindly send are duly registered. In one or
two places my meaning seems to have been too obscure, but
I am rejoiced to find that there are so few errors.
Last week I was immensely amused (ought I to have
been ?) by a very fierce review of the Cambridge Sermons in
the Literary Churchman. The writer " forbore to characterise
such writing," and proposed a series of questions which I
should have asked my class at a Sunday School, with an air
of the most triumphant refutation. It is strange that intelli
gent men should be so very dull. If you fall in the way of
the paper, I should strongly recommend the article to your
notice, if only that I might ask you whether you think my
meaning so enigmatical as to justify so bad a guess.
But I must not write a note now, much less review reviewers,
to whom I owe a great debt.
You say nothing of yourself. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
The following letter to Mr. Wickenden also concerns
the Study of the Gospels, and work done by my father
for Dr. Smith s Dictionary of the Bible :
... I feel very glad that you were willing to take so
much trouble in helping on my work. Many, very many
thanks ; but why should I say so ? You know that I do
thank you sincerely.
I have ventured to put "St." for "S." as is my constant
fashion, and for "Mary S.," "Mary V." I never like to
speak of St. Mary. Don t scold me. Many thanks for the
correction on p. 426, "seal" for "soul." I have written to
the printers, and trust it may not be too late. It makes
sense, unfortunately, and perverts the sense of the original ;
but my writing is terribly misunderstood. To a note which I
added to an article on Judith in Dr. Smith s Dictionary^ " the
theory of Volkmar " is converted into " the story of Volkenar."
This proof I did not see again. Have you seen the Diction-
iv HARROW 237
ary ? I have taken the " Maccabsean period," which I found
extremely interesting beginning with Alexander and ending
with Herod G. a tolerably wide interpretation of the phrase,
not unlike that which Dr. Stanley gives to Ecclesiastical
history, beginning with Abraham !
The following letter to Mr. Hort, written from East
bourne during the Easter holidays of 1859, sn ws that
my father was already at work on St. John s Gospel,
while not unmindful of the Greek Text, which even in
those early days was in the press :
I trust that you received a note this morning which has
relieved you from the sad necessity of supposing that the
unfortunate sheet represented my text, and not the printers .
By what confusion I know not, but both in that and the
next which I received the printers have reversed nearly every
thing. I really feel quite grateful to you for scolding me
so little, if you supposed that I could have been so perverse.
Though I waver sometimes, I have some principles left. I
have not had any sheets of the Romans from you since the
second.
I have been enjoying extremely some work on St. John.
How, indeed, is it possible not to enjoy such work ? Yet
how hard it is to study the Gospel widely enough and yet
minutely. Just now it strikes me as a great Hebrew epic.
The Hebrew poetical character in the highest sense of the
word is very remarkable, and I do not think that I was ever
sufficiently conscious of it before.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
HARROW, 22nd November 1859.
. . . This term has been one of very great anxiety. Added
to other things has been the two months suspense as to our
future Head. The choice has been the best, I think, possible
under the circumstances. Butler is young, but he has other
wise very great qualifications for the work, and comes with
238 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the loudest welcomes from Harrovians of every date. At least
we are secure from violent changes of all kinds. 1
But you libel our house. Externally it is the boldest
mediaeval pile, with gables and pointed windows, and Flemish
steps, and blue brickwork, and stone facings, and everything
else which can raise a promise which the interior belies. The
interior, if by no means mediaeval, contains square, comfort
able rooms which we enjoy. The boys quarter is very
convenient and well arranged, and you will not, I hope,
notice such disturbing noises as you anticipate. When will
you come and make trial ?
On All Saints Day I met Benson and his wife at the
consecration of a church which Cubitt has just built. It was
a delightful meeting. I wish that you could have been there.
. . . You speak of Wells just as I should do. ... How
grand the effect of the Cathedral group from the hill to the
east ! They call the place the city of the dead, but I am sure
that there must be troops of God s spirits there.
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
HARROW, igthfttly 1860.
My dear Davies At the risk of writing both hastily and
crudely, I feel I must write to thank you for your note, and
to try to put into words one or two thoughts which have
occurred to me on the great subject of which you write.
Hitherto I have only had time to read three or four of your
sermons, 2 and if I cannot accept any clause as expressing my
view, I can at least accept the whole as a true view one
view it may be of many for the subject, as all divine subjects,
is infinite.
i. In the first place, I object to all illustrations from
human justice on whatever side alleged; because I think that
our justice essentially regards actions in relation to society,
1 My father has remarked that Dr. Barry, his own friend and contem
porary at Cambridge, and afterwards Principal of Cheltenham College, was
Dr. Butler s most serious rival.
2 The Work of Christ. Macmillan, 1860.
iv HARROW 239
and not as they affect the individual himself. Sins most
ruinous to the moral character of the individual are wholly
neglected by human law.
2. Next, man s forgiveness accepts the penitent as he is,
and is not in any way supposed to remove the effects of past
offences in him. He remains what his sin has made him
when forgiven in himself.
3. Does it not then follow that the requirements of divine
justice and the perfection of divine forgiveness may require
the satisfaction of a condition which is not required in our
dealings one with another?
4. And in connexion with this is not the essential
union of the Christian with Christ " accepted Iv TW ^ya-Trrj-
fjxvo) " so that His actions are ours, His sufferings ours
always insisted on in the New Testament ?
5. If, then, we may represent suffering as the necessary
consequence of sin, so that the sinner is in bondage, given over
to the Prince of Evil, till his debt is paid, may we not repre
sent to ourselves our Lord as taking humanity upon Him, and
as man paying this debt not as the debt of the individual,
but as the debt of the nature which He assumed? The
words in St. Matt, xxvii. 46 seem to indicate some such view.
6. To my mind there is nothing in this which is against
our instinctive notions of justice. And such a view seems to
reconcile the love of the Father for man with the love of the
Son for man.
I should be very glad to hear how far you differ from me.
" Trial " is just beginning, and I ought not to have written
perhaps without thinking more, for the subject is one which I
have not studied as I ought to study it, and possibly the view
which I am inclined to advocate is an old one. I am very
glad to hear good tidings from you. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HYTHE, 6tA August 1860.
. . . There seems to me to be something unspeakably sad
in controversy on such a subject as the Atonement. It is
2 4 o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
worse than a popular discussion about Transubstantiation.
Have we the slightest hope to expect to gain an intelligible
theory of the fact ? Is it not enough to say that the death of
our Blessed Lord was necessary for our redemption ? and that
we are saved by it ? Is it not absurd to expect that we can
conceive how it is necessary since the necessity is divine ?
Then, again, do you not think that those who talk of instincts
of justice and the like all human words and ideas which are
generally refuted (pardon me) by the facts of evil and life, if
pressed one step in theory forget the absolute union of
Christ with man, as of man with Adam. In point of justice
the Incarnation, as involving fatigue and suffering, naturally
was unjust according to the view of Davies, if I understand
him. And may we not conceive of a necessity which brings
suffering after sin, quite apart from free forgiveness, which we
see in common life ? and may not this have been the early
idea of a ransom paid to the powers of evil, which was the
first doctrine of an atonement ? These are fragmentary
thoughts, which will indicate the direction which I should be
inclined to take, if obliged to take any. . . .
To C. DALRYMPLE, ESQ.
HARROW, %th December 1860.
. . . The stillness of Extra School was just now inter
rupted by most martial sounds. The band of the " Harrow
Rifles " escorted the School companies on a grand march to
Sudbury. I did not see the muster, but the movement is
well kept up, and as the officers are to wear swords, they at
least are quite enthusiastic. At Bill I seemed as if I ought to
have called "Major Ridley" and "Captain Williams," the
uniforms were so numerous, and the military element so
predominant over the scholastic (hateful word !)....
To HIS WIFE
MOSELEY, 20th December 1860.
... I went into town yesterday and looked at the Christian
Observer. There was nothing very terrible in the condemna-
IV
HARROW 241
tion of my heresy. My worst fault was that I " dismissed
with scorn a system of interpretation which Newton and
Mede and countless other critics, quite as competent to judge
as Mr. B. F. Westcott, had accepted." I suppose that this
was severe sarcasm, but I survive the wound.
Just now I have read Framley Parsonage. How marvel
lously good it is. The scenes are, of course, critical, but I
think that the execution is masterly. My sympathies are
wonderfully moved for poor Mr. Crawley. He is almost too
truly and sadly drawn.
The following extracts from letters to Mr. Hort in
September and October 1861 tell of the progress of
his work for the Bible Dictionary :
I have done no work except desultory work for Dr. Smith,
which is so far pleasant as it is filling up spare time without
any great strain, and keeps up the power of thinking. One
article, " Philosophy " (!), cost me a great amount of trouble,
but I was glad to get a bird s-eye view of the history, and to
become aware of the fact that the history of pre-Christian
philosophy in its religious bearings has not yet been written.
Zeller s book seems to me immensely in advance of every
thing written on classical philosophy. Do you know it?
And am I right in believing that the propaedeutic office of
Greek philosophy has never been fairly discussed ? By the
way, Mill s sentence about M. Aurelius, quoted by Stanley
with approbation, provoked me amazingly. I should place
the meditations at the exact opposite pole to Christianity. .
... I am busy on my last article for Dr. Smith, " Vulgate."
Can you tell me of any books later than van Ess ? As far as
I can make out there has been nothing done for the Old
Testament (Vercellone has not reached me yet), and next to
nothing for the New Testament, except the Gospels. I should
be very glad of any references. Of course the article must
be brief, but still there are many points which I should like
to work out for myself if possible. My great difficulty lies in
determining the substantial existence of any Hieronymian
recension of Epp. Very many of the readings quoted as
VOL. I R
242 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP, iv
" It " are by no means confined to the old version, and our
texts are purely Graeco-Latin. Have you ever examined the
curious blending of readings in "f" for instance? I wish I
could have talked of this, though indeed it is matter rather of
curiosity than of critical importance. . . .
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
HARROW, iqth October 1861.
As for the Hulsean Chair, I had no special wish, and
certainly no sanguine hope for it. Mr. Lightfoot has very
great claims, and is resident. ... It has been a great pain
to me to hear our names mentioned as of possible rivals.
Nothing could have been further from the thoughts of either.
Pray, if you hear such a report, contradict it. Our only
question was which ought to come forward, and with this
view we were most anxious to collect any information which
might guide us.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
MOSELEY, 3i.rf December 1861.
. . . We spent a very pleasant week with Cubitt, and
when there I went over to Wellington College for a day. I
found Benson full of hope and vigour. He had thoroughly
maintained his ground in the dispute, thanks to the Prince.
. . . Lightfoot was with us for two days. He seems very
well and joyful in the prospect of his new work. Since the
University has chosen him, and peremptorily rejected Lord
Palmerston, I do not despair yet of our foster mother. I
cannot describe my indignation at hearing that Lord Palmer
ston was to be Chancellor, on the ground that he was the
one man whom all would support. I would have walked
barefoot from the land s end to protest against such a miser
able idolatry of success. . . .
CHAPTER V
HARROW (continued]
1862-1869
IN the Easter holidays of 1862 my father visited
Hereford and Tintern. Concerning the latter place he
says in his diary :
The Abbey was in shade as we first saw it, and so with
veiled beauty. The dew was still fresh on the ivy, and the
lights and shadows were absolutely perfect. Afterwards, in
the broad sunlight, the contrast was less striking : all was
toned to one rich mellowness. No view can excel that
from the right on entering ; next is that from the Hospice.
The architecture of the Refectory is worthy of notice from its
simple plate -tracery. Elsewhere the absence of arches or
outlines to the foliations is very noticeable. Trefoils, etc.,
are used simply in the tracery. It seems evident that the
architect was familiar with foreign designs and treated each
element independently. The cloister doorway shows a
remarkable instance of an attempt to surpass an earlier
effort in the remarkable variation of the toothed ornament.
The mouldings of the door with its foliated head are
singularly exquisite. I felt it absolutely impossible to sketch.
No skill could paint the colours, and no outline could be
more than a dismal skeleton.
In the summer holidays of the same year he made
243
244 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
a tour with his wife in Cornwall and the Scilly Isles.
His diary of this excursion is enriched with some
exquisite architectural sketches ; but his experiences
were not of an extraordinary character, and though
they are, as can be readily imagined, admirably
chronicled, must pass unnoticed.
At this time my father was still engaged on some
of his last articles for Dr. Smith s Dictionary of the
Bible, and in connexion therewith spent his Easter
holidays of 1863 in Paris in the Imperial Library. On
his journey thither he had a very rough passage of
seven hours from Newhaven to Dieppe. Every one
seems to have succumbed to the terrors of the sea
except a certain six-foot Archdeacon. Of this digni
tary my father narrates :
I found him in the cabin sitting erect, placid, solemn,
contemplating his hat, which was placed before him as the
central glory shining and black and the worship seemed
to bring its reward.
In the summer holidays of 1863, spent with his
family at Seaton, my father was busily engaged on
The Bible in the Church. He undertook this work
because he had been asked to give the substance of his
History of the New Testament Canon in a form more
convenient for popular use. He decided, however, in
this more popular work to give some account of the
collection of the Old Testament Scriptures also. In
the preface to one of the later editions of this book, he
says : " If at first it seemed strange to some that I spoke
on several points with less confidence than was common
twenty years ago, it is my happiness now to find
nothing to retract or modify in the general view which
I then gave of the history of the Christian Bible."
v HARROW 245
When, some years later, he was rather anxious to
extend his larger New Testament work along the same
lines, he was dissuaded by Dr. Lightfoot, who professed
himself to be quite satisfied with the " Little Canon," as
he affectionately called The Bible in the Church, which
he said he considered to be the best of my father s
earlier works. The following letter to Professor Light-
foot tells of the progress of the new book :
SEATON, zyh Aug. 1863.
My dear Lightfoot Alas ! I must confess that I have
nothing to send Hort, except kindest remembrances and best
wishes. Since I have been here I have been steadily work
ing at The Bible in the Church, and have written more than
half of it. Probably I may finish it before the end of the
holidays if my zeal holds out. I hope the work will be
clear. In many respects it is clearer, as far as I can judge,
than the former one, and of course far more satisfactory as
including the O.T. too. Yet I can easily suppose that it
will please nobody. Shall I envy you your visit to Italy?
... If you see any popular religious Catechisms will you
get me copies? There are several in recommendation of
special "cults," which I should be glad to see. Do not fear
that I am going to turn controversialist, yet I am anxious to
have a picture of Romanism at home. As for text, would
you not place alternative readings as in Dr. Vaughan s
Romans ? This satisfies me completely, and Hort too (I
think) was satisfied with the arrangement. I like it better
than margin. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Early in 1864 the Norrisian Professorship of
Divinity at Cambridge became vacant. As the follow
ing letters show, my father seriously entertained the
thought of being candidate for the office :
246 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
HARROW, zbthjan. 1864.
My dear Lightfoot Your note came just as I was ponder
ing over the announcement. It seems very hard to decide.
For the first time in my life I find myself in a position which
promises to leave fair room for providing for our family, and
I suppose that to leave Harrow now would involve a very
considerable sacrifice. At the same time I find an interest in
my work, as I have all my boys with me, which I have never
felt before, and can be quite contented to devote myself to
them. Yet, on the other hand, the work is most exhausting.
I doubt whether I could bear my present labour for very
long, and it makes all other work nearly impossible. Person
ally I care nothing for money. If we can educate our
children, that is enough. Thus the question seems to be,
Where will one do the most useful work ? And who can
answer it? There is no doubt but that I should enjoy
Cambridge extremely. Whether I could do anything there I
doubt much more. I hardly know where to turn for advice
on this point. As I said to you in the first instance, I will
gladly do what my friends think I ought to do. I have not
the slightest ambition to gratify. If any one else is likely to
come forward who supports the same cause as we hold to be
true, I should most willingly retire. But if no one will come
forward of like views, then it seems to me that I ought to
offer myself. You are more sanguine of my success than I am.
If the electors are the Heads, I cannot see that I have much
chance of success. But as to that I am really very indifferent.
My only claim would be to represent what I hold most firmly
to be truth in theology ; and if the University thinks that I
am wrong, or finds any one to fulfil the duty better, I shall
gladly acquiesce.
Can you learn whether Cambridge is an expensive place
to live in ? But really I can live on anything.
The whole result seems to be that if on inquiry you think
I ought to come forward, I will do so. If you are doubtful, I
would rather stay where I am. This is to place on you a
v HARROW 247
great burden, but I know that you will not decline to bear it.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, 2&thjan. 1864.
My dear Hort Your very kind note was most welcome.
With it came another from Lightfoot. I could not, of
course, take the same sanguine view of my work as you
take, but still on the whole I have decided now without
doubt to offer myself if no one of like views comes forward,
and except yourself I hardly know any one who could
come forward. In my note to you I concluded, I hope not
too hastily, that you would not be likely to be a candidate ;
and at least I can feel in some degree what ought to be
done at Cambridge, though I know far better where I should
fail than my friends do. Yet now it would be faithless, I
think, not to listen to an invitation which comes from
different quarters ; and I feel glad that it comes at a time
when it would be painful to leave Harrow. Till lately I
should have welcomed any post which would have taken me
away; but now I can enter with my heart into the work.
... I seem to have very much to say about other things,
but I cannot write now. Everything seems dreamlike and
unreal. To think steadily is quite impossible. I should
almost tremble with fear if the old ambition of my life were
fulfilled, yet it would not be my seeking self again. Ever
yours affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
Eventually he was compelled to abandon the idea of
the Norrisian Professorship, because a subsidy hitherto
given to the professorship was withdrawn, and he felt
that it would be wrong for him, with his family, to
accept work on an income of barely 100.
Later in the same year Dr. Jeremie, the Regius
Professor of Divinity, accepted the Deanery of Lincoln,
248 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and it was at first supposed that he would consequently
resign the Professorship. This, however, he did not do.
Once more, therefore, my father and his faithful friend
were disappointed. In preparation for the vacancy my
father took his degree of Bachelor of Divinity.
In January 1865 my father was persuaded by Dr.
Benson to pay a long-deferred visit to Bishop Lee of
Manchester. The Bishop welcomed him very warmly,
and being alone was able to talk to him freely and at
length. He discoursed with much energy of Dr.
Arnold, and was intensely angry with Tom Brown,
which he declared utterly misrepresented Arnold s
mode of dealing with boys. With Dr. Newman too
he had little patience, and appears to have sympa
thetically quoted the opinion that Newman had " trifled
with his reason till he had lost it." Of their last talk,
when the Bishop s heart seems to have been full of
tenderness for his loved pupil of old days, my father
has jotted down various interesting notes ; but the
following letter, written to Dr. Benson on the day after
he left Mauldeth (/th Jan.), is preferable as giving
some connected impressions of the visit and the final
interview. He writes :
My dear Benson You deserve my warmest thanks for
encouraging me to go to Mauldeth, and I must send them to
you, in however imperfect a shape, now I am returned and
can look back on three pleasant days there which have given
me a happier idea of the Bishop than I have ever had. He
was in excellent spirits, rejoicing in the work already done in
his diocese, and above all he had set aside that hasty love of
paradox, which in some of our last conversations, years ago,
grieved me very greatly. His tolerance of opinions which
he did not share, and his willingness even to yield a little
now and then for instance, in speaking of the Apologia
gave me more than pleasure. He himself constantly went
v HARROW 249
back to old days at King Edward s School, and he evidently
had not lost his old love.
Sometimes he spoke of Arnold, and vaguely of differences
between himself and A., which seem to have been great.
" The letters," he said, " which bore witness to them I burned
a short time since."
Once the conversation turned to questions of personal
hope. " People quote various words of the Lord," said the
Bishop, "as containing the sum of the Gospel the Lord s
Prayer, the Sermon on the Mount, and the like ; to me the
essence of the Gospel is in simpler and shorter terms : p)
<f>o/3ov jjiovov Tria-Teve. 1 Ah ! Westcott, mark that jwvov. 2 p,rj
<f>oj3ov fjLovov Trio-TV." And his eyes were filled with tears
as he spoke. KPE TrwrreTxo porjOci IAOV rrj aTrwrrta 3 was the
only answer.
In the same month, in a letter addressed to Pro
fessor Lightfoot, my father says :
HARROW, lyth January 1865.
I have been shaping a strange essay in my mind and on
paper, about which I should like very much to talk with you
some time. It contains very old thoughts to which I feel
almost bound to give expression in the present crisis ; but I
am in no hurry to speak.
The essay thus mentioned is his Gospel of the Resur
rection. He says that it contains " very old thoughts "
the thoughts that had brought him comfort in his
undergraduate days, when he suffered so much from a
torturing scepticism. He had always bravely faced
his difficulties, and had at length found sure ground.
He now offers in this essay the general line of thought
and argument which had proved satisfactory to him-
1 Fear not : only believe. a Only.
s Lord, I believe. Help Thou mine unbelief.
250 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
self. The essay thus composed in the latter part of
1864 he sent to Mr. Macmillan in the following March.
HARROW, ijth March 1865.
Dear Mr. Macmillan As it is extremely uncertain when I
may be in town, I send the MS. of which I spoke to you. At
present I have not decided whether I shall publish it or not.
If I do publish it, it will probably be anonymously. I wish
it to stand or fall by its own merits.
Moreover, I should wish to have the opportunity of care
fully revising it in type, and of gaining the help of some
friends for the purpose.
I have never read the MS. since it was written, but at the
time each thought was very carefully worked out.
Of course I should be glad for you (if you please) to read
it, and even to gain the opinion of any one else upon the
argument, without mentioning my name. If all be well I
look forward to filling up the gap which remains at Easter,
and I shall therefore be glad if you can let me have the MS.
again in about a fortnight. The gap will cause no difficulty
in following the argument, as you will find the skeleton in its
proper place.
After the essay had been printed it was sent to a
few friends for the benefit of their criticisms. The
following letters are in acknowledgment of such criti
cisms :
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, 2jth September 1865.
. . . Your criticism is very encouraging. At Herne Bay
I worked a little at revision, and hit upon some of the blots
which you point out. The others also I will try to remove.
I excuse the hardness of parts by the plea that the Essay is
intended for those who will take pains to read it, and work
out the processes for themselves. I made an analysis which
v HARROW 251
will help the reading a good deal, and this itself suggested a
few clauses of connexion and the like.
The postulates must be postulates. I feel very strongly
that "self," "world," "God" can rest on nothing but con
sciousness. Perhaps it is useful to put this plainly. But I
must not attempt to enter on this now.
I have been trying to recall my impressions of La Salette.
I wish I could see to what forgotten truth Mariolatry bears
witness ; and how we can practically set forth the teaching of
miracles.
The two questions must be faced and ought to be solved.
School is not the place to solve them. Ever yours affec
tionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, i$th October 1865.
. . . The essay is still being pulled to pieces. You were
the most merciful and rapid of critics. It will have suffered
sufficiently, I hope, by the end of the month. How eagerly I
wish for the time now to work at St. John. But it seems
more and more impossible to find it. ...
To THE REV. E. W. BENSON
HARROW, I jth November 1865.
My dear Benson Many thanks for your criticisms. I
wish that there had been more of them. My optimism is
not unlimited, and the " unhappily " must, I fear, still express
my judgment on the Byzantine Empire. . . . The other
points to which you call attention I have tried to make less
open to exception. As to the " free-will " of animals it seems
remarkable that those which associate with man appear to
develop a will and to be treated as responsible. There is
nothing, I think, which is a more startling proof of the power
of society than this, and the correlative degeneracy of man in
isolation.
As far as I could judge, the " idea " of La Salette was that
of God revealing Himself now> and not in one form but in
252 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
many. Does ev w<j> exclude for ever TroAiyzepws KCU iroXv-
rpoTTcos ? I think not. To us, as to the Jews, I fancy that the
ideal was first shown towards which we painfully struggle
through long ages. Is not it clear that we live in a Hellenistic
age? But I am becoming apocalyptic. Ever yours affec
tionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, i8M November 1865.
My dear Lightfoot As you are the judge of my ortho
doxy a perilous office, I fear, in these days I must ask you
whether you think the title of my essay may be " The Gospel
of the Resurrection : Thoughts on its relation to Reason and
History " ? And next, whether it should be anonymous or
with my name? The authorship could not well remain
secret. But I think that you gave me a general "im
primatur."
Macmillan has promised me a few copies of La Salette.
Did you notice that two pilgrims have just lost their lives in
the mountain ?
I am delighted to hear that the Galatians is being rapidly
exhausted. I doubt whether a second edition will make me
charitable towards The Churchman. Ever yours affection
ately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, i8M November 1865.
My dear Hort I was very glad to have the slips this
morning, especially as they reached me on my first free
morning this term, and I was therefore able to give a quiet
morning to your notes. This makes me more and more wish
that you would write. On many things when I am in doubt
you seem to have clear views, and you generally appear, I
think, to have a more solid foundation than I can boast of
in a kind of historic optimism. The sections on Sin were
written while Gravenhurst was fresh in my mind, and many
v HARROW 253
of the phrases are perhaps to be interpreted by reference to
that book. But I am quite prepared to maintain my general
theory. Several statements needed a little explanation ; but
I hardly see how your definition or description will in the
end differ from mine. The setting up self must be conscious
and personal and against a person. I could not imagine a
righteous rebellion of the finite against the infinite. This
too will explain why I have kept " eternity " of matter. By
eternity I understood absolute existence, and that makes the
contradiction of which I spoke. Two absolute existences
are to my mind wholly inconceivable. ... To me the last
chapter was really necessary. It is very inadequate, but it
may set any one thinking; and the Resurrection seems to
teach the transformation of our whole manifold nature as
manifold, and so also of society as manifold too. This I
think we forget almost always. Frequently I have been con
tented to hint at a connexion of thought, for I should greatly
prefer that any one reading should think the true view sug
gested his rather than mine first. Moreover, the book is not
written quite blindly or from within wholly. I have had very
distinctly before me objections which I have heard dwelt
upon. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
Writing to Mr. Macmillan in 1 873, in connexion with
one of the subsequent editions of this book, my father
says :
4fA.M. 4/10/73.
I have revised my little book on the Resurrection as care
fully as I could with the help of friends criticism, and return
you the copy which you sent me with the necessary changes.
This, as you know, is the only one of my little books which
I really care much about. If you have or could get any hints
towards improving it I should be grateful. It may, I think,
yet be allowed to do some good.
One of the most interesting of his holiday excursions
during these later Harrow years was a tour undertaken
t
254 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
in the summer of 1865 in Dauphine and Lombardy,
with Lightfoot and Benson for his companions. On
their journey to Paris the three friends seem to have
fallen into the company of thieves ; but were more
fortunate than some of their fellow-travellers, one of
whom lost .150, receiving instead thereof " deux sous
Beiges." The most interesting feature of this excursion
was a visit to La Salette, near Grenoble. The miracles
wrought here at the sacred spring made a great im
pression on my father. Several narratives of miraculous
cures wrought by Our Lady of La Salette were recited
in his hearing, and after relating one of the most strik
ing of these, he says :
A written narrative can convey no notion of the effect of
such a recital. The eager energy of the father, the modest
thankfulness of the daughter, 1 the quick glances of the spec
tators from one to the other, the calm satisfaction of the
priest, the comments of look and nod, combined to form a
scene which appeared hardly to belong to the nineteenth
century. An age of faith was restored before our sight in its
ancient guise. We talked about the cures to a young lay
man who had throughout showed us singular courtesy.
When we remarked upon the peculiar circumstances by
which they were attended, his own comment was: "Sans
croire, comment Fexpliquer ? " And in this lay the real
significance and power of the place.
After the visit to La Salette my father went on to
Turin and Milan for literary purposes. At Milan he
made a careful examination of the Muratorian Frag
ment on the Canon. The following letter to Mr.
Dalrymple states briefly his impressions of this tour :
1 The girl belonged to a distinguished family of Marseilles, and having
been reduced to the last stage of weakness by an attack of pleurisy, was
pronounced to be " agonisante."
HARROW 255
HERNE BAY, nth September \^.
My dear Dalrymple Your note was waiting for me when
I returned home last Saturday from a tour of marvellous
interest. Had I not spoken to you of my hopes? They
were more than fulfilled. Just a month since I started with
Dr. Lightfoot and Mr. Benson for Dauphine and Lombardy.
Chambe ry was our starting-point. Thence we went to the
Grande Chartreuse, where we spent two delightful days in the
thirteenth century. Our next halting - place, La Salette,
offered a startling change, but to me one full of the most
absorbing interest. There we stayed two days as pilgrims.
Our pilgrimage in the technical sense ceased here, and we
began our mountain expeditions. . . . After a visit to Mt.
Dauphin, we crossed Mt. Genevre to Turin, where I examined
"k," and thence to Milan, where the Muratorian Canon was
duly consulted, and not without fruit. The exterior of the
Cathedral was as ugly as I thought it must be. The interior
I thought overwhelmingly grand. I can see it now in the
solemn majesty of its golden light. The ghost of Leonardo s
" Last Supper " was hardly less affecting ; hardly less the open
graves of Sts. Gervasius and Protasius, so full of memories of
Ambrose and Augustine. . . . But above all that was grand
and lovely the memories of the Grande Chartreuse and La
Salette are the most vivid. Of these we must talk when we
meet, which will be soon, I hope. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
On his return to England he wrote a paper on the
subject of La Salette, which I have quoted above.
He had fully intended to publish this article, but re
frained from doing so by Dr. Lightfoot s advice. The
1 Professor feared that the publication of the paper might
expose the author to a charge of Mariolatry, and even
prejudice his chance of election to a Divinity Professor
ship at Cambridge. The announcement of the paper s
condemnation is thus made to its publisher :
256 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
HARROW, i$th November 1865.
My dear Mr. Macmillan Dr. Lightfoot thinks, after read
ing La Salette that it might be misunderstood by some
persons, and therefore it must be condemned. As it is in
type, would it be possible to print off half a dozen copies in
the form in which it is ? Dr. Lightfoot and Mr. Benson have
both asked for copies, and I should be glad to keep one for
myself; for the visit taught me much which I would not
willingly forget.
The printers are getting on quickly with the Essay, and it
is time to fix upon its name. I had thought of " The Gospel
of the Resurrection : Thoughts on its relation to Reason
and History." A friend suggested that the word " Gospel "
might repel many who might otherwise read it, by the sug
gestion of Sermons. He proposed " Message " instead.
What do you think ? Or can you suggest anything else ? You
can calculate far better than I can the possible effect of a
title. You will see that I have dealt with nearly all the
points which you marked in one way or other; and now I
am ready for the remaining sheets if you have looked through
them. Ever yours sincerely, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
My father s orthodoxy was again called in question
two years later. In 1867 he wrote a tract entitled
The Resurrection as a Fact and a Revelation, the sub
stance of which was derived for the most part from
his essay on The Gospel of the Resurrection. This
tract was accepted by the Society for Promoting Chris
tian Knowledge, and was already in type, when one of
the Society s episcopal referees detected heresy in it.
The writer was unable to omit the suspected passage,
as he held it to be essential to his argument, and con
sequently " his valuable pamphlet " was suppressed.
In the correspondence connected with this curious sup
pression my father remarks :
The objection is one which I could not have anticipated.
v HARROW 257
It seems to me to belong wholly to the modes of thought of
the seventeenth century.
And again :
The section in question was not written without consider
able previous discussion, and it contains a very deliberate
judgment which it would be wrong to abandon on a vague
charge of liability to misrepresentation. ... I need not say
that I should not cling to what I have written so firmly, if
every sentence had not been debated again and again, before
the original essay was published, with scholars in whose judg
ment I could implicitly trust.
Immediately after his return from Lombardy my
father settled down to steady holiday work at Herne Bay.
Thence also he indited the following poem anent Dr.
Benson s hat :
REQUIESCAT
Ah me ! had I the poet s pen
Which traced the triumphs of the plaid ! l
A nobler theme demands my song,
A crown and not a robe ; but sad
The truth my rhymes will dull its sheen,
For Herne Bay is not Hippocrene.
A wide-awake, a casque, a hat,
How shall I name the changeful thing ?
Now in this shape, and now in that,
It bodies some imagining
Of grace or dignity to view,
Chameleon-like in varied hue.
The weight of years is on its brim,
The light of suns is on its crest ;
Its black has mellowed down to brown ;
The outline wavers ; for the rest,
Each hue has some instinctive power
To suit the fashion of the hour.
1 Dr. Benson wrote some verses on the plaid worn by my father on
their recent tour. See Life of Archbishop Benson^ i. 235-37.
VOL. I S
258 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Not Rubens had a grander sweep
Of beaver swelling broadly down ;
Not Gessler s a more sovereign look
To bear the honours of a crown
And cunning fingers could not vie
With nature s subtle broidery.
E en as I write I see it still
Circling the thoughtful artist s brow
With softest forms of wavy shade
Worthy of Tintoret ; and now
It stiffens out and seems to say,
" I lead : you follow and obey."
B. F. W.
HERNE BAY, not BELLAGIO,
September 1865.
My father s plaid, the original theme which called
forth the above response, was indeed a worthy one.
On his holiday rambles he invariably wore this plaid
round his waist and over his shoulder, and in com
bination with his wide-awake squeezed in at the sides,
and his black cloth gloves, one of which he could
never wear, it served to distinguish its wearer on all
occasions. In the following lines Dr. Benson most
happily describes the wearing of the plaid, and its
universal uses :
Forgive me ! still entwine my waist,
My shoulder climb, descend my chest,
Still neath my elbow be embraced
Thy fringe, my plaid !
My Heater still and Freezer be !
My Cushion and my Canopy
All comfort in Epitome,
My magic plaid !
But yet again we must not forget the schoolmaster,
and must pause to pick up some further evidences of
work for the school,
v HARROW 259
Half a century ago the study of Natural Science did
not usually receive much attention in schools, but at
Harrow boys were even then encouraged by means of
periodical examinations to engage in such studies. In
the fostering of such pursuits my father took a leading
part. In December 1 865, at the Headmaster s request, he
drew up a scheme for examinations in Natural Science.
In a letter explanatory of the scheme he says :
The arrangement is designed to cover a period of three
years, in the course of which time it is hoped that a boy may
have an opportunity of bringing out successfully any special
taste which he possesses for any branch of Natural Science.
In order to give a definite reality to the scheme, the names
of several masters are tentatively attached to subjects which,
it is hoped, they may be willing to undertake. The success
of the scheme must depend upon the co-operation of as large
a number of our body as possible, and it is expected that the
distinct assignment of subjects may give life and efficiency to
the examination. Hitherto the difficulty which has been
experienced in the selection of proper text-books has been
a serious hindrance to the good working of the examinations.
To meet this difficulty it is proposed that the announcement
of each subject shall be accompanied by a full syllabus of
the details of the subject to which the examination will
be confined, with general references to the best sources
from which information upon them may be gained.
Each master who undertakes a subject will, it is hoped,
hold himself responsible for the composition of the syllabus
which relates to it, and also be willing to offer suggestions,
and render help to candidates preparing for examination in
his particular subject.
. 4
The desultory system which has been followed up to the
present time has, we must all feel, produced many good
results, and it cannot be doubted that the object which the
examinations are designed to gain is worthy of a combined
and definite effort.
260 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
It should be added that the subject for which my
father proposed to make himself responsible was the
Classification and Distribution of Plants, including
outlines of the Fossil Flora. Structural Botany was
undertaken by Mr. F. W. Farrar.
Remembering how in his later years my father won
some renown as a peacemaker, it is interesting to be
reminded of his earlier efforts in the same direction. A
friend l writes to say :
I well recollect how, on more than one occasion, after
calling over (bill), he came down to the "milling ground"
and tried to stop the fighting, and to make peace between
the combatants. His efforts were not always attended with
success, however, but I think in the end helped to bring
about the discontinuance of fighting, which was afterwards
forbidden by the school authorities.
It must not, however, be supposed that he was
altogether opposed to all fighting : I believe that he
would even advise boys, whose differences appeared
not to admit of settlement, to " have it out."
In 1866 my father devoted his Easter holidays to
an essay on the Myths of Plato, and his summer holi
days to an essay on the Greek dramatist ^Eschylus.
Both these essays were published in the Contemporary
Review in the course of that year. In the following
year he wrote a third essay on the Greek dramatist
Euripides, which also appeared in the Contemporary.
The two letters which follow are connected with the
earlier essays 2 :
1 Mr. A. Garfit, West Hill House, Lincoln.
2 These three essays were republished with others in Religious Thought
in the West. Macmillan, 1891.
v HARROW 261
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, %th May 1866.
... A proof of my holiday work on Myths has come, and
I shall be very glad if you will glance your eye at the remarks,
lest I should unconsciously have become a pagan or platonist,
or anything else which I ought not to be. You see it is a
very serious matter to take charge of any one s reputation
for orthodoxy. I know no Platonic friend who could at a
glance tell me if I have erred in my estimate of the Myths
themselves. I feel very strongly that I am in the main
right. . . .
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
LLANFAIRFECHAN, ^\st August 1866.
. . . My reading has been wholly confined to ^Eschylus
and Browning. Of the latter I had read almost nothing
before, and he is therefore harder than ^Eschylus, but more
rewarding. ^Eschylus more and more stands out to me as
" the law " for the pagan world. Plato was a prophet. I am
sure that the popular notions about the ^Eschylean fate
could never have gained currency, if we had not lost prac
tically what he dwells on, a sense of sin as a moral force. I
have been putting down my thoughts on paper, perhaps as a
companion article to the Myths. People commonly do not
know in the least what classical literature and theology are,
and it is worth while trying, however feebly, to help them to
know, even at a sacrifice. . . . Our botany has been meagre
as yet, but Lightfoot and I propose to go over the botanic
formation, which is, I see, on the geological map marked out
clearly by a belt of " calcareo-arenaceous ashes." . . .
In connexion with these essays on the " prophetic
masters of the West," which were but a fragment of a
design " formed very early in life " by their writer,
I am tempted to quote the following words of Canon
A. S. Farrar l :
1 Professor of Divinity in the University of Durham.
262 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I do not think that he (sc. Bishop Westcott) has been
sufficiently estimated as the literary man. All allow that he
had great gifts from nature, immense brain-power and origin
ality of mind ; and that he became the great scholar ; but
because he devoted these gifts mainly to the Church and
theological learning, there is a danger of our forgetting that
he showed such literary powers, as scholar and critic, that he
might have shone as a star of the first magnitude in the
galaxy of literary writers. One of his books which proves
this is his Religious Thought in the West, an early effort,
which, it is true, he turns to a theological use, as he gives a
comparative study of some of the poets and thinkers of the
world ; but in which I should select his sketches of ^Eschylus
and Euripides as masterpieces of suggestive criticism and
depth of literary insight. But he laid his great literary gifts
at the foot of the Cross ; and accordingly we have to watch
this literary development under this more limited aspect. 1
During 1867 my father was much occupied with
Comte and Positivism. He wrote an article entitled
" Aspects of Positivism in relation to Christianity,"
which originally appeared in the Contemporary Review,
but has since been added as an appendix to his Gospel
of the Resurrection. About the same time he was
labouring to complete his History of the English Bible,
which was published in 1868. In the preface to this
work he says, " In the following Essay I have endea
voured to call attention to some points in the history
of the English Bible which have been strangely
neglected. . . . As far as I know, no systematic inquiry
into the internal history of our Authorised Version has
yet been made, and still no problem can offer greater
scope for fruitful research." In the course of this
book the author had occasion to expose "serious
historical inaccuracies into which historians of repute
1 Sermon preached in Durham Cathedral on 3rd November 1901.
v HARROW 263
have fallen." It is curious to note that at the time
some reviewers were apt to scoff at the writer for
" falling foul " of these distinguished persons. On the
other hand, one of the historians in question frankly
wrote : " I found that in five points out of six he was
indisputably right, and in the last edition of my work
I have made all necessary corrections." In considera
tion of this action my father withdrew an appendix
which he had written dealing with the historical inac
curacies. I merely mention my father s courteous
attitude on this occasion to illustrate the truth that,
to quote another s words, " Dr. Westcott s love of truth
and accuracy, which I know is pure and deep, has no
venom about it." This History of the English Bible
has for many years been out of print, although
frequent endeavours have been made to prepare a new
edition of it. 1
In the later years of his Harrow residence my father
was very full of the idea of a " Coenobium." 5 Every
form of luxury was to him abhorrent, and he viewed
with alarm the increasing tendency amongst all classes
of society to encourage extravagant display and waste
ful self-indulgence. His own extreme simplicity of
life is well known to all his friends. He could never
to the end of his life reconcile himself to dining late.
When circumstances compelled him so to do, he prac
tically went without a meal. For spiritual and
intellectual advancement he believed a life of earnest
self-discipline to be essential. He looked to the family
and not the individual for the exhibition of the simple
life. His views upon this subject are accessible to all
1 I am glad to be able to add that Mr. Aldis Wright is at the present
time kindly preparing a revised edition of this book.
2 Community life.
264 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
who care to study them. I only wish to put it on
record that he was very much in earnest in this matter,
and felt that he had not done all he might have for
its furtherance.
The following extracts will give some idea of what
the " Ccenobium " was intended to be :
It would consist primarily of an association of families,
bound together by common principles of living, of work, of
devotion, subject during the time of voluntary co-operation to
central control, and united by definite obligations. Such a
corporate life would be best realised under the conditions of
collegiate union with hall and schools and chapel, with a
common income, though not common property, and an
organised government ; but the sense of fellowship and the
power of sympathy, though they would be largely developed
by these, would yet remain vigorous whenever and in what
ever form combination in the furtherance of the general ends
was possible. Indeed, complete isolation from the mass of
society would defeat the very objects of the institution.
These objects the conquest of luxury, the disciplining of
intellectual labour, the consecration of every fragment of life
by religious exercises would be expressed in a threefold
obligation : an obligation to poverty, an obligation to study,
an obligation to devotion.
An organisation of families might place openly before all
a noble type of domestic life ; not so costly as to be beyond
the aspirations of the poor; not so sordid as to be destructive
of simple refinement ; strong by the confession of sympathy ;
expansive by the force of example.
My own recollections of the Ccenobium are very
vivid. Whenever we children showed signs of greedi
ness or other selfishness, we were assured that such
things would be unheard of in the Ccenobium. There
the greedy would have no second portions of desirable
puddings. We should not there be allowed a choice
v HARROW 265
of meats, but should be constrained to take that which
was judged to be best for us. We viewed the establish
ment of the Ccenobium with gloomy apprehension, not
quite sure whether it was within the bounds of practical
politics or not. I was myself inclined to believe that
it really was coming, and that we, with the Bensons
(maybe) and Horts and a few other families, would find
ourselves living a community life. I remember con
fiding to a younger brother that I had overheard some
conversation which convinced me that the Ccenobium
was an event of the immediate future, and that a site
had been selected for it in Northamptonshire. I even
pointed out Peterborough on the map.
The following letters to Dr. Benson treat of this
subject :
HARROW, 2.qth November 1868.
My dear Benson Alas ! I feel most deeply that I ought
not to speak one word about the Coenobium. One seems to
be entangled in the affairs of life. The work must be for
those who have a fresh life to give. Yet sometimes I think
that I have been faithless to a call which might have grown
distinct if I had listened.
To-day we have the edifying spectacle of the formation of
the British Parliament by omnibuses, ribbons, and placards.
The voters are merely an appendage. It is a sight to make
one weep bitter tears. How can we reach to the good
below ? Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, 2ist March 1870.
. . . The paper on the Coenobium will appear, I think,
in the next number of the Contemporary. It was a trial to
me not to send it to you and Lightfoot and Wordsworth for
criticism, but on the whole I thought it best to venture for
myself, and speak simply what I feel. If anything is to come
of the idea it will be handled variously, and something is
gained even by incompleteness. On the true reconciliation
266 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
of classes I have said a few words which are, I hope, in
telligible. In speaking at Zion College at the end of the
discussion, I dwelt on this aspect of the work at more length.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
In October 1868 my father received a letter from
Dr. Magee, Dean of Cork and Bishop -designate of
Peterborough, asking him to accept the office of Ex
amining Chaplain in the diocese of Peterborough. In
this letter Dr. Magee says : " Although personally
unknown to you, I have for some years enjoyed the
pleasure and advantage of a knowledge of your theo
logical writings." It is surely remarkable that my
father s first offer of any sort of ecclesiastical prefer
ment should have come at last from one who was a
stranger to him, and not a member of either of the
great English Universities. It is true that some years
before he had been suggested by Dean Stanley to
Bishop Tait as a suitable person for a similar appoint
ment 1 That suggestion, however, was made in 1856,
and did not bear fruit ; so it remained for Bishop
Magee, twelve years later, to offer my father the first
recognition of his eminent services to the Church. In
December of the same year Bishop Magee offered him
a Canonry in Peterborough Cathedral, vacant through
the death of Canon James. The offer reached him on
Christmas Day, and four days later he accepted it.
The following letters indicate something of what he felt
at the time :
To THE REV. E. W. BENSON
HARROW, 31^ December 1868.
My dear Benson It was on Christmas morning, and I too
on that day, which most rarely happens, was celebrant at
1 Life of Archbishop Fait, i. 207.
v HARROW 267
Holy Communion. If only I could do anything to make
the truths so expressed more felt by myself and others !
You will not forget me in the Litany " Illuminate." It
seems a very grave matter to choose deliberately a life of
study, if strength be given. The Ccenobium comes at least
one step nearer.
Every New Year s greeting ! Just now I am waiting to be
summoned to Peterborough to be installed.
Kindest wishes to all your party, and truest thanks for
your prayers and benediction. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, -$ist December 1868.
My dear Hort The week which I had designed for quiet
was occupied by most anxious cares. I believe that I have
done right in accepting the Canonry, though I cannot yet
clearly see my way to providing for our boys education. At
least, however, I do sincerely trust that I have simply desired
to do what was right irrespective of consequences, and the
last two years seem to have tried my health very severely.
Perhaps I fear a collapse to idleness when the pressure is
once removed. You will not forget me.
At present I have done literally nothing these holidays,
and if I can I intend to get a few days idleness, but in the
meantime I expect to be summoned to Peterborough, and
then must go to Cambridge. Excitement is even more
trying than work, and the kindness of friends quite over
whelms me, for I shall only disappoint them. Yet by God s
blessing we can help one another. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS WIFE
THE PALACE, PETERBOROUGH,
2O//* February 1869.
... I cannot write more than one line. A whole paper
remains to be looked over, and the dinner bell will ring in a
268 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
minute or two. The day has been absorbingly busy and full
of interest. I have examined, climbed among the rafters of
the Cathedral roof like (a monkey or) a carpenter, to consider
repairs, looked at the plans for our house, made calls, talked,
talked, talked, and now hope to listen. I am no less hopeful
than I was. There is a great work to be done, and it may be
given to me to do a fragment of it. The Bishop is most
kind, and I am sure that he will consider everything most
favourably. But I must say no more. You will be with us
in thought to-morrow. Perhaps that is the most real
presence. Comtism, you see, will come out. Ever, my
dearest Mary, your most affectionate
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
When leaving Harrow my father expressed a wish
that there should be no farewell presentation, or any
sort of demonstration in his honour. He expressed
this wish in a letter to his friend and colleague, the
Rev. F. Kendall, who subsequently wrote to ask
whether he would consent to publish a volume of his
sermons preached in the school chapel. Mr. Kendall
says :
We should much prize them as a personal recollection of
the past, and as a means of keeping alive here in days to
come something of the spirit you have infused into so many
here. . . . We did not adopt any formal resolution from
our sympathy with your dislike of any such ostentatious
exhibition of feeling. Will you accept this informal intima
tion of our wishes as a genuine and spontaneous expression
of opinion on the part of the mass of your colleagues, that
such a volume will be at once useful and welcome, not
merely to dear friends who may recall in the written word
some familiar accents of a much -loved voice, but to many
more who may thus be quickened to an intenser interest in
the Church s work ?
My father, who had some years previously seriously
entertained a similar request from Dr. Vaughan, appears
v HARROW 269
to have taken some steps towards compliance with his
colleagues desire ; for he wrote to Mr. Macmillan :
" I think on leaving Harrow, if all be well, of putting
together a few sermons harmonious in scope with the
Commemoration Sermon, as Encouragements to
Christian Thought, or something of the kind. As
soon as I have time to look over them and arrange
them, I will send them to you." The requisite leisure,
however, seems not to have been forthcoming.
The school monitors, however, were able to approach
him with the following address, written on a simple
sheet of notepaper :
To THE REV. B. F. WESTCOTT,
Canon of Peterborough Cathedral
We, the undersigned, monitors of Harrow School, beg you
to accept this address as a token, however imperfect, and
however inadequate, of our feelings towards you, now that
you have at length left us, to perform other duties. Others
might well express their gratitude for the earnest interest, the
untiring zeal, and the fearless consistency with which, as a
House Master, you have striven to promote the best interests
of our school ; but we have another debt to acknowledge,
which is more peculiarly our own, and cannot suffer you to
depart without endeavouring thus to show our gratitude for
the teaching and instruction that we have so long received
from you. We feel heartily, even though we express im
perfectly, and perhaps appreciate insufficiently, the greatness
of this boon. But at least through your influence some new
hopes have been aroused, some new desires kindled, and
some new thoughts engendered, which will in the appointed
time bear fruit.
It is, indeed, great matter of satisfaction that you have
remained with us so long ; and on your now leaving Harrow
we wish you most sincerely all happiness and all success in
the new labours which you have undertaken ; and we can
270 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
only express a hope that you may always win the same
respectful admiration, the same heartfelt esteem, and the
same affectionate love which you have left behind in the
hearts of all who knew you here.
GERALD H. KENDALL. CHARLES J. TYAS.
CHARLES W. WALKER. RALPH MILBANKE.
HAROLD CARLISLE. MARSHAM F. ARGLES.
EDWARD S. PRIOR. WALTER W. STRICKLAND.
S. FRANKLAND HOOD. CHARLES HADDOCK.
CHARLES G. O. BRIDGEMAN. FRANCIS M. BALFOUR.
A. J. EVANS. CHARLES J. LONGMAN.
CHARLES GORE.
Some of his pupils, moreover, were determined that
he should have with him in the years to come some
tangible proof of their feelings towards him. They
contrived, therefore, to circumvent his resolve in so far
as to send him, without a word of warning, a valuable
gift of books. I well remember their arrival at our
Peterborough home, and my father s delighted con
sternation as we children came staggering in bearing
massive folio volumes of Walton s Polyglot^ Dugdale s
Monasticon^ Sacrosancta Concilia, and other precious
works.
To the kind donors he replied :
PETERBOROUGH, 2gth December 1870.
My dear Pelham x You will, I think, understand in some
degree how impossible it is for me to express what I feel at
the sight of the magnificent library for it is no less with
which my Harrow friends have equipped me for fresh labour.
No one could receive a greater or more welcome encourage
ment in the prospect of a charge, which seems on a nearer
approach almost overwhelming, than this which I owe to
1 Now President of Trinity College, and Camden Professor of Ancient
History, Oxford.
v HARROW 271
those to whom I owe much besides ; not a greater one, for
you have placed my new work in close and permanent con
nexion with the old, which, with all its anxieties and trials,
was yet crowned with a fulness of joy ; not a more welcome
one, for I shall now enter on a fresh and harder duty of
teaching with the clear assurance that I am supported by the
sympathy of very many who know well what I need, and how
only the task set before me can be accomplished.
Of all the lessons of my Harrow life no one has struck
me more than that which, I believe, we all learnt together
I mean the marvellous power of effort directed to a definite
end steadily and faithfully ; and now nothing gives me
greater delight than to see those who were once my pupils
finding in various offices of life the great reward of work with
an aim. This delight, too, is the more intense, because, as
you know, I believe that England and our English Church are
called at present to a service than which no nation and no
church has ever had a greater to render to Right and Truth.
We have seen faintly, it may be, and yet with absolute con
viction, that freedom and obedience to Law, Truth, and
Light are in the highest forms identical ; and you and those
who work with you will have to make these noble results
practically clear in dealing with the political and religious
problems of our time. May God give you strength and
wisdom to do it ! "We know what we have believed."
How far I seem to have wandered from the purpose of
my note, and yet you will see how naturally such thoughts
flow from the very titles of the books with which you have
enriched me. The choice you have made shows that you
feel that in Theology there are two great subjects at present
of paramount importance the critical study of the sacred
text and the critical study of the records of ecclesiastical
history. And this which is true of Theology is true in some
<sense of all higher work now. The idea of unity in manifold
life is that to which the most independent results are tending,
and so gradually we come nearer to the end which St. Paul
has set before US, o 9&s ra Trdvra ev Tracriv. 1
But how can I thank you, and those in whose behalf you
1 God all in all.
272 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
write ? Nay, I will not even attempt to do so. As you have
opportunity, will you simply say with what joy and gratitude
I shall henceforth see old friends ever, as it were, present
with me in my work, and find in the silent books pledges of
silent help by which they will support me, and dare I add ?
I them, in service offered to one great cause in one supreme
hope.
With every wish of Christmas for you and all our common
friends, believe me to be ever, my dear Pelham, yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
The present Master of Trinity, under whom, as
Headmaster of the School, my father served for the last
nine years of his Harrow work, has been able to add a
Master s estimate to that of pupils of my father s services
to the School. With this testimony we may appro
priately conclude the record of this period of his life.
Dr. Butler writes :
You have kindly asked me to give you some impressions
as to your father s work and influence at Harrow. This duty
you will allow me to try to discharge by a letter to yourself
rather than by any more formal paper. I cannot find it in
my heart to attempt to criticise the life of so great a man and
so dear a friend, even during that part of it when he was but
little known to the world at large. The years to which my
words will refer are, speaking roughly, from 1860 to 1870.
It was, as you know, in 1852 that, at Dr. Vaughan s invi
tation, he went to Harrow. You will doubtless have testi
mony as to the singular hold which he obtained almost from
the first upon certain boys of exceptional intellect. Of this I
heard at the time, and have heard since, but my own recol
lections begin with January 1860, when I succeeded Dr.
Vaughan as Headmaster.
At that time Mr. Westcott, not yet thirty-five years of age,
held a very peculiar position at Harrow. He was little known
in the School at large. He was not a Form Master. He had
no " Large House " to administer. His voice was not yet a
v HARROW 273
force in the chapel. It reached but a few, and it was under
stood by still fewer. But even then he had at least two
spheres of influence his own pupils on the one hand, and
the Masters on the other. With a " Small House " of some
seven boarders, several of them very able, and with a pupil-
room of some thirty-three boys drawn from the Headmaster s
House, the home boarders, and some other quarters, he had an
opportunity of creating, as it were, a Tenth Legion of his own.
He founded, and more or less organised, a succession of boys
who loved him for his kindness and sympathy, believed in him
for his vast and varied knowledge, and might hope some day
to understand more fully this attractive and stimulating but
rather mysterious friend.
As to the Masters, it would, of course, be impossible for
me, or indeed for any one else, to speak for them as a body.
Some, I think, regarded him rather as a dreamer and a recluse,
whose element was books not boys, but there was a feeling
among us all that we had with us a man of genius, a really
great scholar, an original thinker, a rising and genuine theo
logian. With some of the Masters, especially the younger men,
the feeling was far, very far, in advance of this. We saw in him
a very dear friend, a wise counsellor, a man who, on almost
every subject of intellectual interest, had fresh and awakening
thoughts, and whose ideal of life, personal and professional,
was noble, simple, and self-sacrificing. We were somewhat
amused by what we heard from time to time as to his diffi
culties in maintaining discipline, in spite of his boundless
personal courage ; but we saw that if he lacked some of the
lower gifts, which the most commonplace subaltern can
exercise in the classroom or on the parade ground, he pos
sessed in the highest degree the greater gifts which make a
man first impressive and then a leader.
At the same time, we were not prophets. I doubt if, even
among those who loved him best and most fully recognised
his intellectual and spiritual greatness, there were any who
foresaw his future eminence, I will not say as a writer and
thinker, but as a speaker, a preacher, and a ruler. He
scarcely ever preached at Harrow except about once a term in
our school chapel, and scarcely ever spoke at any meeting,
VOL. I T
274 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
literary or religious, though we had frequent meetings in aid
of some of the great societies the Church Missionary, the
Propagation of the Gospel, the British and Foreign Bible all
of which in later years were proud to secure his advocacy and
to acknowledge his quite unique services.
Even at our "Masters Meetings," held once a week at
about 10 P.M., he very rarely spoke. I see him now, as
a few loving survivors may still see him, his hand over his
brow with a suggestion sometimes of shrinking and almost
of pain, his whole figure bowed and subdued, as if he appre
hended the utterance of some crude paradox or some blatant
platitude. When he did speak upon any of the grave ques
tions that came before us, religious, educational, disciplinary,
sanitary, his opinion was given in the fewest words and the
quietest of tones, recalling some principle which he thought
had been neglected, and apart from which he grew impatient
of details. His utterances, rare as they were, were received
with marked respect. There was more of the oracle in him
than in any other member of our exceptionally distinguished
staff.
Once, when he had been quite silent on an important
occasion, I ventured to write privately a few words of affec
tionate protest, assuring him of the very high value which
I personally set on his opinions, and my belief that their
expression would be profitable for us all. This drew from
him a very beautiful and characteristic reply, which I cannot
have destroyed, and yet unfortunately I cannot find it among
the many letters from him, which I always carefully preserved.
Its purport was that he knew how to obey, and that possibly
he might some day know how to rule, but that, as a coun
sellor acting with a large body of colleagues, he preferred
generally to offer no advice on matters for which he was not
directly responsible. The hint, most modestly and gracefully
expressed, that he might possibly some day be called to rule,
startled and greatly pleased me at the time, and I often
thought of it afterwards as he gradually rose to high posts in
the University and the Church. I do not think that I have
ever before mentioned this to any one.
The most critical period in his Harrow life, so far as I can
v HARROW 275
judge, was when, on the death of Mr. Oxenham, at the end
of 1863, he succeeded to the charge of his "Large House,"
bringing with him the few but very distinguished members of
his own existing "Small House," that is, some seven or eight
boys.
From that time till he received his summons to Peter
borough he became a real power in the School. His House
was from the first pre-eminent for its intellectual and general
vigour, and no small part of this result was due to the inspira
tion of the new Master.
You will doubtless have testimonies from some of those
able pupils who were then fortunate enough to share his
fullest confidence. They well know that no influence then
brought to bear upon them, intellectual or spiritual, could
compare with his. But they will also, I doubt not, bear
witness to the lighter as well as the graver side of his rich
character. No learned man was ever less of a pedant. No
great student of books could be more genial and even playful.
As an instance of this, I may be allowed to tell a little story.
One characteristic and novel feature of his life in his new
house was the sympathy which he showed with Mr. John
Farmer, who was then just venturing on that bold enterprise
in " House Singing " which, with Mr. Bowen s all-powerful
assistance and the generous help of others, was destined to lead
to such delightful results. Your father was one of the very
first to write for school use some Latin songs, of which " lo
Triumphe " became the most famous. This kind service was
highly appreciated by Mr. Farmer, by the House, and by the
School at large. But one audacious and short-lived libel was
linked with it. Rumour whispered that a leading boy in the
House, devoted almost beyond others to his beloved master,
when shown by the gleeful musician the first draft of " lo
Triumphe," observed, with pain, "Surely there is a false quan
tity in that line." Mr. Farmer, in helpless amazement, carried
it back to its learned author, and deferentially suggested the
alleged slip. The suggestion was first received with indignant
horror, till in a few moments the trick of the wicked pupil was
seen through, and condoned in a burst of laughter.
To return from this little digression, which his gentle
276 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
shade would pardon, I may be allowed, and perhaps even
expected, to say a few words on my own relations with your
dear father. As to these, I can never speak or think too
gratefully or too reverently. Coming as a very young man
from Trinity in 1860, I knew the great name which he had
left in our College, and also the hold which he had acquired
on the affection of Dr. Vaughan and on some of my most
intimate Cambridge friends, such as Hort and Lightfoot and
Benson.
I was, therefore, prepared from the outset to recognise the
rare quality of his genius, and to minimise his deficiencies in
dealing with the rougher and more commonplace aspects of
boy life at a great public school. The special professional
bond between us was what I had inherited from Dr. Vaughan.
He helped me in looking over the Composition of a large part
of the highest Form. He also took one lesson with the Sixth
Form on Saturdays, and it was understood that he would
supply my place in Form if ever I was called away. But these
occasions were rare. It was in connexion with the Composi
tion, always most carefully and ably corrected, that I saw most
of his work.
But, apart from this, he was in many directions the friend
whom I consulted most where special knowledge or delicate
taste and feeling were required. If a programme was to be
drawn up of the subjects to be prepared for new prizes say,
for Scriptural Knowledge or for Knowledge of European
History and English Literature ; if I had to write some in
scription in prose or verse for a Memorial Tablet, or for
a medal, or for a series of books ; or, again, if any question
arose as to the origin or exact meaning of some passage in
the Bible, especially in the New Testament, it was to him, in
my first ten years of office, that I constantly referred for advice,
knowing that his replies would give me the maximum both of
fulness and of accuracy. He never spared himself trouble in
framing these replies, whether in Term time or in the
holidays.
No sketch of his later time at Harrow would be even
approximately adequate which failed to mention the two
noteworthy sermons which he preached in our chapel in
v HARROW 277
1866 and 1868. They were entitled Crises in the History of
the Church and Disciplined Life. These he was induced to
print, though not, at the time, to publish. They brought
before us all, young and old, those larger issues of the
Christian life, past and present, on which his own gaze was
becoming more and more wistfully fixed. Their very unlike-
ness to the average sermon, " school " or otherwise, was re
freshing. They were essentially a " study " a study of life,
a study of man as a God-taught being in many ages, a study
of society, a study of the Lord Jesus Christ. Like all such
" studies " by first-rate men, they had a voice for those who
had ears to hear, whether many or few.
Among the most eager of his hearers, during at least his
later months among us, were not the Masters only, or perhaps
chiefly though we were by this time all proud of him but
some of his own most attached pupils. His physical voice
had not yet acquired the strength which it gained gradually,
and in the most marked and even startling manner, at Peter
borough, at Cambridge, and at Westminster; but it was
already stronger than it had been at first, and less of a strained
whisper. The fire, which had always lain in it, was more
visible. The effort to listen had become with many an oppor
tunity and a pleasure.
I can never forget the mingled feelings with which we heard,
in December 1868, that he was shortly to leave us. The
summons from Bishop Magee to become his Examining Chap
lain at Peterborough was not yet accompanied even by a
Canonry. To accept it was a true "venture of faith." But
he never hesitated. He felt that a new life, and on a larger
scale, had begun, and that he was henceforth a public servant
of the Church and the country.
Judging from the letters which he then wrote to me re
specting the time of his departure from Harrow and the
necessary preparations for it, I cannot doubt that you will
detect in all his correspondence at that critical time a new
tone and a new manner something of the explorer, and, if I
may so say, the apostolic "adventurer" and the conscious
prophet something like the tone of J. H. Newman at Rome,
at Palermo, and on the home journey from Sicily in 1833, of
278 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
which he wrote long after, "I began to think that I had a
mission." " I have a work to do in England." l
Yes, your father seemed to know that he had a distinct
call to a fresh life. The call was certain. The life was doubt
ful. But he had only to obey, and he did obey with unfalter
ing trust.
And here I must close these most imperfect records.
His departure from Harrow was felt by all of us as leaving a
void which none could fill. When, some sixteen years after,
I rejoined him at Trinity, I found him, in spiritual things, the
acknowledged leader of the University, the inspirer of societies,
the chief speaker at every religious or educational gathering,
the preacher to whose voice and thoughts no hearer listened
unmoved. But of this, and of Durham, and of the glorious
end, I have no right to speak. His farewell sermon on
"Life "at our Trinity Commemoration, on nth December
1900, is my latest recollection of him, and seems to link to
gether all his noble life youth and age ; school and college ;
Harrow, Peterborough, Cambridge, Westminster, Durham. No
man had ever a better right to use the words with which he
then took leave of us : " The world is ruled by great ideals :
the soul responds to them. If they are neglected or forgotten,
they reassert themselves, and in this sense truth prevails at
last. Without an ideal there can be no continuity in life : with
it even failures become lessons."
The following are letters belonging to this period,
1862-1869:
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
HARROW, 12th February 1862.
I thank you most heartily for the very interesting autographs
which have just reached me. That of Holman Hunt is one
which I specially coveted, for he seems to me to be a man
1 Apologia pro Vita sua, p. 99, end of Part iv.
v HARROW 279
who stands far, very far in advance of all our English
artists as well in power as in moral character, if at least I
read his pictures rightly.
TO THE REV. J. F. WlCKENDEN
MOSELEY, 2nd May 1862.
My dear Frederic Yesterday I returned from a six days
wandering with my father from Hereford to Gloucester down
the Wye. The weather was delightful, and we enjoyed the
little tour extremely. I have seen Tintern several times be
fore, but it never appeared so beautiful as in its spring dress
in the early morning. The dewy freshness of the lights and
shadows completed a picture which is almost perfect in out
line. For once I was fairly shamed into not sketching.
Years ago I had no such feeling, but on Wednesday I shrank
from attempting to carry away in brown any impression of a
beauty which was really infinite. I was glad to hear your
impressions of the Bishop of Manchester. My own have
been derived from different sources, and I suppose that
various occurrences have interrupted my old cordiality. Per
haps I may think that I have personally some cause for
complaint, but I am not sure that it is so, and I only say
this that you may not attach any weight to the adverse judg
ment which I am forced to form of the Bishop s conduct.
His whole career as a bishop seems to me to have been
one series of disasters. But his language about Essays and
Reviews roused my indignation beyond expression. On this
subject at least I can judge for myself how far he has any
right to give expression to such an opinion in such a manner.
But while I cannot agree with you, I can indeed rejoice that
you see things very differently. It would be sad indeed if
we are to believe that there is no good except the good which
we ourselves see and prize, and I know that there is very,
very much which I do not value rightly. Unfairness in others
almost makes me blind to their excellences.
You will come up to the Exhibition, I suppose, and if so
we shall hope to see you with us. There are yet nooks in
280 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the house unoccupied, and we trust that Alder may come
too. With kindest remembrances, ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
DOVERCOURT, ^rd Aug. 1861.
My dear Davies It has not been forgetfulness or want
of interest which has so long delayed my thanks for your
welcome present of your essay on The Signs of the King
dom of Heaven. You would anticipate with how much
pleasure I should read it, and with what hearty assent I
should receive all your positive teaching. It struck me, how
ever, that you did not (I do not know who does) fairly face
the question of the Resurrection as a miracle. This fact,
unless I am mistaken, is the very centre of the Apostolic
teaching, and I am particularly anxious to get it placed in
that light. The discussion of other miracles seems to be
subordinate to that, and I do not see any objections to which
the " lesser " miracles are liable which do not lie against it ;
while conversely the relation of the Resurrection to the whole
economy of Christianity seems to me to furnish the true ex
planation of the meaning of the other miracles.
This subject has occupied a great deal of my thought
as far as I have been able to think lately the more so as in
all the miserable disputes about Essays and Reviews it seems
to have been lost sight of, and I should be very glad to
know if you agree with me both as to the .importance of the
question and as to the popular treatment of it.
We are staying at a singularly quiet little place, which
seems, however, to be cheerful and bracing. Bright gleams
of sunshine are coming over the sea as I write, and to watch
the endless changes of colour is pleasure enough for a month s
holiday. Meanwhile the Volunteers exercise themselves with
artillery practice, and just opposite is a fort from which comes
sounds of rifles from time to time, lest we should fancy that
we have reached the reign of perpetual peace. Ever yours
affectionately, BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
v HARROW 281
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, *]th May 1862.
. . . Generally, indeed, I feel very great repugnance to the
whole work of revision. I do not see my way to a positive
result nearly so clearly as I once did. Perhaps I think that
the result of labour is wholly unequal to the cost, and indeed
too often worthless. It is impossible to treat the Text
mechanically, and equally impossible to enter as one could
wish into the subtle points of interpretation which often arise.
I cannot express to you the positive dislike I want a stronger
term with which I look on all details of spelling and
breathing and form. How you will despise me ! but I make
the frank confession nevertheless, and am quite prepared to
abide by it.
HARROW, 8/A December 1862.
My dear Hort The residuary difficulties must remain for
the present. We have evidently come to fixed points, and
for Lightfoot s purpose absolute agreement is unnecessary.
Very many thanks for your pencillings. Several points,
as you would notice, will be modified by the new light which
I seem to have gained since the article was printed on the
groups of MSS. in the Gospels at least. I can think of no
good heading instead of " Mixed," but certainly shall not let
this stand. Practically I believe that " Western " will prove
right with the subdivisions Gallic and Irish, but I dare not
yet state this. I intend to arrange such collations as I shall
make in an interleaved Cod. Amiat. This will bring out, I
am satisfied, most clearly the families of other MSS. It is
obvious that Amiat. is only one of a large family agreeing
almost literally together, and thus forming a complete Hiero-
nymian standard. . . . On Wednesday and Thursday I
hope to have two good days with Bentley at the British
Museum, and on Friday a day at Cambridge. Having done
this, I shall see my way more clearly. . . .
282 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
HARROW, 26^/2 May 1863.
My dear Lightfoot I am quite prepared to yield to your
advice, and in such a matter would far rather trust your
judgment than my own. Yet it seems too late. It occurred
to me that if I did not come forward you would, and that
would be at least as good and more certain. However, I
have written to Jeremie asking him to fix gib. June for the
act. We have a holiday on that day, and I could come up
without any very great difficulty. He has chosen the thesis
which I like least, for it is worn thoroughly threadbare long
ago : " Testamentum Vetus Novo non contrarium est." When
I hear from him again I will ask you to publish the notice
for me. No harm at least can be done by the exercise. At
present I do not know who the Council are, so that I am in
the dark as to my prospect. Dr. Vaughan comes here on
Tuesday, and I shall talk the matter over with him. Ever
yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, i$thjune 1863.
My dear Lightfoot What a strange activity there seems
to be among the publishers ! I had made no definite promise
to Rivington, but said that my share in the work would
depend in a great measure upon you ; yet, as you would see
from my note, I do feel anxious that we should undertake
the task together, however arduous it may undoubtedly be. I
have less faith in the " Episcopal " Commentary than in Dr.
Pusey s, if indeed they are different. Of I know
nothing, except what Ewald says of him in a review of the
Dictionary. But at least I am satisfied that such a Com
mentary, to be useful, should be by men who are not officially
committed ; and my faith is in young men who have grown
up with us. As for Rivington s plan, it is at present in a
very unformed shape, as far as I can learn, and I can imagine
that he would leave the arrangement of the whole to his
editors. It is at least evident that you would have far more
v HARROW 283
freedom than with a Committee (even shadowy) in the back
ground. Fancy on Biblical Criticism !
The appearance of rivalry is that which troubles me most,
yet I do not see how it can be wholly avoided. Evidently
the work will cost much to those who direct it. It is easy
to foresee much reproach and very little credit ; yet if we can
write I am sufficiently sanguine to hope that we might do
something not without use. On the other hand, I see com
paratively little prospect of good service to the whole cause
in doing a part only of a Commentary under guidance and
general superintendence. Thus again I fall back upon my
old arguments. If we see a fair hope of shaping an honest and
reverent Commentary I think that we are really bound not to
shrink from the labour. If men fail us when we make the
effort, then we can retire. If we can find men for the work, then
I would gladly venture all tVayamfo/xevos rrj aA^&t p. If, how
ever, you fail absit omen my heart too would fail me, I fear.
I like the appearance of Galatians very much, and am
delighted to see it. Dare I pledge myself for Hort ? Ever
yours affectionately. B. F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, 2nd July 1863.
My dear Lightfoot It certainly does seem that we shall
have no definite ground to stand upon, if Mr. Cook admits
the principle, which would have been in some measure our
starting-point. It really seems necessary in some way to
explain to Rivington that the ground which we should wish
to occupy is occupied. . . .
HARROW, ^thJuly 1863.
My dear Lightfoot When I returned home I found a
note from Mr. Cook giving a general account of his scheme,
and asking me to take part in the O.T. Of course
I declined to have anything to do with the O.T., but at
the same time I threw out a hint that I might perhaps
take an Apokryphal book if they were included ; but on the
whole I should rather not join. . . .
Rivington wishes for suggestions as to some other work
or series of works on Theology which are needed. Do you
284 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
not think that a Dictionary of Ecclesiastical Antiquities is
greatly wanted? Nothing special has been done since Suicer,
and the work is both innocent and might do some good if done
well, unless I am mistaken, by English scholars. Have you
ever thought of it? But this is perhaps premature. The
idea is worth turning over. . . .
2%th October 1863.
My dear Lightfoot I do not feel quite satisfied about
Ephesians till I hear that you have taken the Pastoral Epistles.
Tell me this, and I shall then feel that I do right in taking
the Epistle. . . . However, I shall be very glad to talk
this over in Cambridge. For my own part, I cannot begin
work till after Christmas, when the " Little Canon " will be
off my hands, which I have enjoyed more than anything
except the Vulgate. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, 2nd July 1864.
My dear Lightfoot Of course I don t like any of the
title-pages. Would it not be better to place the monogram
on the opposite page, where " C. J. Clay " stands ? At least
it would be well to try the experiment. At present the page
looks heavy with the monogram at the bottom ; and if it is
placed in the middle it violates the sequence. Moreover,
"BY" is too large. It ought not to be on the same scale
with the name. Do try another title with these alterations. . . .
As for my debt, I won t pay it till you come here, and I wish
the sum (vain wish !) were larger, that I might have a surer
hold upon you. Hort is very anxious to know how the
Galatians is progressing. He proposes to advertise the whole
Commentary, but I think that it will be better to announce
only St. James for him and St. John s Epistles for me. . . .
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, 22nd September [1864].
My dear Hort It is hopeless : day after day I have been
longing to write, but time will not come, and I cannot make
v HARROW 285
it. The old Cambridge receipt has vanished. . . . My
summer was not as fruitful as I had wished ; or rather, it
was not fruitful in the way I had wished. Dr. Newman s
Apologia " cut across " it, and opened thoughts which I
thought had been sealed for ever. These haunted me like
spectres, and left little rest. The Text consequently suffered
terribly. It happened that Benson and his family were also
at Swanage, so that we had many talks about the Greek
Testament, but again and again the old Mediaeval Church
rose up. No theory which I know fully explains its relation
to the Church. When shall we have the historic develop
ment of Christianity treated in relation to the Gospel ? You
will see how distracting such thoughts as these must have
been. And now the weight of school seems heavier than
ever.
In what position are you with regard to the Synoptists ?
I can see nothing better than our beginning a common
revision as soon as possible. I do not think it is safe for
either of us to trust to working alone. . . .
" Grammar " I simply hate. (Have I not often before been
as violent ?) Sometimes I am inclined to wish that we had
treated spelling as Carlyle has treated it, or the editors of
Milton. As it is, I should propose to give a general list of
the variations in spelling, etc., once for all, with very short
remarks, and to disregard all " grammatical " alternatives in
the margin. What ycru say of the reduction of the notes to
the smallest possible compass absolutely expresses my wish.
Lightfoot has used the Lachmann type ; how far, I do not
know, and I do not know whether it exists in a small form.
Nothing could be better for quotations.
The punctuation should be, of course, as simple as
possible. . . .
To THE REV. E. W. BENSON
HARROW, $Qth November 1864.
My dear Benson How ungrateful you must have thought
me for your letter, so full of pleasant memories ; and yet,
perhaps, you had more charity than to pass an unjust
286 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
judgment. This term, in fact, has been full of distractions
and business. Since I left Swanage I have ceased to think
and read, and scarcely believe that such a time of refreshment
was real. But now again the holidays are beginning to be
seen through the thick darkness of Examination, which is
coming over us. ... I have done literally nothing (grumbling,
I hope, is nothing) all the term. Even The Guardian letters
on " Inspiration " have failed to move me. Once indeed,
for about five minutes, I had serious thoughts of writing to
Mr. Lake about Origen, to whom he certainly does not do
justice, but the impulse was soon subdued by the pressure of
thirty-six boys. But it would be a poor return for your cheer
ful letter to answer it by complaining. My hammer is buried
under a pile of boxing-gloves, which I captured a few weeks
ago, but we will trust that it will be disinterred some time.
Meanwhile, if you have become a geologist, the summer will
not have been badly spent. I long to work again at the
Purbecks. . . .
AsHBY-DE-LA-ZouCH, 22nd December 1864.
My dear Benson We have been in a constant whirl since
we left you, or I should have written before to thank you and say
once again how heartily we enjoyed our visit to Wellington
College. . . . Did I not leave the specimen pages of the
Greek Testament on your table ? If you see them, may I ask
you to send them to me ? I wrote to the Bishop of Man
chester yesterday, and if I should visit him I should like to
take them with me. . . .
MOSELEY, >]th January 1865.
. . . What I meant to say as to the relation of the
Resurrection and the Ascension was simply this, that for us
the Ascension is the necessary complement of the Resurrec
tion. We cannot think of the latter historic fact without
such a completion. The Ascension belongs to a new order of
existence, of which at present we have and can have no idea
in itself. It is not, so to speak, in the same line of life with
the Resurrection. It becomes real to us now only by the
present gift of the Holy Spirit. The Resurrection was the
v HARROW 287
victory of death and potential entrance to life, but what that
life was to which the Ascension was the immediate entrance,
is as yet a mystery. However much I may wish to maintain
that the Resurrection and the Ascension are both facts, yet I
am forced to admit that they are facts wholly different in
kind, and for us the historical life of the Lord closes with the
last scene on Olivet, though I do not forget the revelations
to St. Stephen and St. Paul.
To HIS WIFE
MAULDETH HALL, MANCHESTER
{January 1865].
My dearest Mary I use the episcopal paper for a good
omen (?) to make preparation for the preferment of Llan, etc.
The dignity will compensate for the smallness. Really my
portmanteau is bewitched. I believe a Nixie is in it. Yester
day I watched over it like a dragon, and twice I was on the
very point of losing it. It will go wrong. If I say Birming
ham, the porter insists on Banbury. If I say Stockport, the
guard affirms that I say Stafford, and so my journey was one
long anxiety. However, it came to an end, and I saw the
Bishop on the platform, and soon after the portmanteau on
his carriage, and so my troubles were over. Nothing could
be kinder than his reception. Mrs. Lee is away, so that
we were talking the whole evening of Birmingham,
and then of Greek Testament. There was not the slightest
loss of power, but every faculty was as fresh and vigorous
as ever, and so I could go to school again. To-day the
Bishop goes into Manchester, and I shall go with him,
and perhaps we may not return till after post time, so that I
write this note before breakfast. This morning there is
bright sunshine, but I am afraid it will be treacherous. I do
hope my little visit may do good. To be alone in this great
house seems even to my solitary nature very sad. I must
write this evening to the railway people. It is now raining
heavily as usual. With love to all, ever your most
affectionate BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
288 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, lyhjamtary 1865.
My dear Hort I hope to send to-morrow the last two
chapters of St. Matthew. The work grows somewhat easier, I
think, as it goes on, but it always brings its characteristic
headache. I must have the new Tischendorf. The adver
tisement which I saw gave me the same idea of the book
which you give. His changes show, what is abundantly
evident elsewhere, that he really has no very clear ideas
about the Text. I am more and more struck with the
phenomena of distinct recensions, or whatever else they may
be called. But indeed it is very long since D. made me
give expression to the belief in the existence of co-existent
types of Text at the earliest period to which we can descend.
. . . For the rest, my visit to my old master was even more
enjoyable than I had ventured to hope. For me he was far
more the old master than the Bishop. We avoided modern
polemics at least I did; and on the two subjects on which I
ventured to give a decided opinion, the Irish Church and the
Court of Appeal, I found consideration, if not entire consent.
In conversation I gathered some new traits of Bunsen and
Arnold. You can scarcely fancy with what indignation Tom
Brown was characterised. From what I heard I feel (as you
hinted) that the true portrait of Arnold has yet to be drawn.
The sterner and stronger features of his imperious nature
have yet to be given their true proportions. . . .
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
HARROW, i6tk January 1865.
My dear Mr. Macmillan On the whole, and after much
thought, I have almost decided that it will be best to reprint
the Canon and the Introduction (when it is required)
as they are, and uniform. They have a certain coherence
and completeness as they are. If a larger book were ever
required, I should prefer to take the Bible in the Church^
and fill it up with references and arguments in detail. But I
HARROW
289
doubt very much whether such a book is wanted, and still
more whether I should have patience to make it. Dr. Light-
foot strongly urges a simple reprint of the Canon, and I
am much influenced by his judgment on such a point. . . .
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
HARROW, zist March 1865.
My dear Lightfoot The Galatians and your note came
together. . . .
The Epistle was a most cheering sight cheering as my
own venture lies far off. The hastiest glance, which is all
that I can yet give it, shows me that it will fulfil all our
hopes, and need I add more? I do most heartily rejoice
that Cambridge sends forth such a book at such a time.
May it bring the Church at large rich blessing, and yourself
fresh strength and hope. Ever yours affectionately,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, loth January 1866.
. . . Ecce Homo I saw on Lightfoot s table for a few minutes.
You will imagine that I felt its defects far more than its
merits. I cannot think that any estimate of our Lord s work
and person which starts from its ethical aspect can be other
than fatally deceptive. This was not that which the Apostles
preached, and not this could have conquered the world. I
feel more strongly than I dare express that it is this so-called
Christian morality as "the sum of the Gospel," which makes
Christianity so powerless now.
I am very glad that St. James advances. As for St. John,
I have settled in a great measure what I shall try to do. . . .
HARROW, zbthjunc 1866.
My dear Hort The tidings of your note were not
unexpected after what I had heard a day or two since from
Mrs. de Morgan. Hitherto we have been spared losses
in our family so completely that I feel as if my sympathy
VOL. I U
2 9 o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
with you must fall short of what it would be if I were better
trained in sorrow. In the presence of that great teacher I
fancy that common thoughts grow dim, and what seemed
clear before is then at last found to be other than we had
judged. And yet our little lives do seem to me to be such
fragments of the whole even of our life ; conscience seems to
acquiesce so completely in the sacrifice of them even in war,
that it seems as if faith could follow those who leave us with
a continuity of love into the unseen, not as into a strange
place, but as into a place more truly our own than this. It
is very hard to judge in any way rightly what is the worth of
this earthly life of ours ; and I am sure that we are tempted
equally to prize it too highly and too little. The tone of
our own Burial Service, or of that wonderful transcription of
it in Handel s March, is that which I strive when I can
strive to reach to. The strain ends with a voice of triumph.
So may it be for us ! To-morrow we shall think of you. . . .
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
HARROW, 2^th October 1866.
My dear Lightfoot I intend to turn heresy-seeker. The
Churchman (!) I see praises the book on the Canon as a
necessary article in a clergyman s library. It is strange, but
all the questionable doctrines which I have ever maintained
are in it. Can it be that The Churchman has profited by the
^Eschylean truth ? Haflei pdOos. If there is anything more
to be told about Selwyn, may I trust to your information ? *
Here I am quite out of the way of news. Ever yours,
BROOKE F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
%th December 1866.
. . . The account which you give of Mr. Maurice is very
pleasant. I have seen no notice of his lecture. We are at
1 There was a report that Professor Selwyn had accepted the Deanery
of Norwich. Had this been the case my father would, by Professor
Lightfoot s advice, have been a candidate for the Lady Margaret Pro
fessorship of Divinity.
v HARROW 291
the beginning of the end now. Ecce signum ! " Methought
she trod the ground with greater grace " = " Ut decore im-
pressit terram cum plure putavi." Is not that a cheerful
result in the Under Sixth ? Examinations are not encourag
ing. . .
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
HARROW, I2th March 1867.
My dear Davies I was most glad to receive your Cam
bridge Sermons, 1 which came most opportunely as a prepara
tion for our School Communion. Such a treatment of the
subject is a real service to Truth, and it had the more direct
interest for me as I have been spending all my leisure how
little ! for the last nine months on the Comtists. How
marvellous that it should be left for them to rediscover
some of the simplest teachings of Christianity ; scarcely less
marvellous than that Mr. Mill should be so profoundly and
sincerely ignorant of what Christianity is, and of the religious
significance of Comtism, as all he writes upon them both
proves him to be. ... You can hardly fancy how sometimes
I long for leisure to speak or think on these things. Doubt
less if it came the leisure would be a burden. I do feel that
it ought to be impossible for men to misrepresent the funda
mental ideas of Christianity, and yet they do on all sides
without fear of contradiction or detection. But I must not
attempt to write more. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
TO THE REV. J. B. LlGHTFOOT
(on his declining the Bishopric of Lichfield)
HARROW, 2yd November 1867.
My dear Lightfoot I could have rejoiced at either
decision, because I am sure that each would have had its
1 Three sermons entitled " Morality according to the Sacrament of the
Lord s Supper," afterwards incorporated in The Gospel and Modern Life.
292 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
blessing. But every hour s consideration convinces me that
on the whole, as far as I can see, what has been chosen is
likely to be most for the glory of God and the good of His
Church. May the work thus doubly made your work be
more and more abundantly blessed ! Ever yours affection
ately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, jth December 1867.
My dear Hort Your note is an immense relief to me, and
I must ackno wedge it while I have a few minutes quiet. I
had feared that I was quite alone in the advice which I gave
Lightfoot, and though I knew that his own heart was his real
counsellor, yet I feared that I might perhaps have given a
bias in some way to his interpretation of its promptings. I
never doubted when I could reflect, and your complete coin
cidence with the grounds of my conviction removes now all
passing misgivings. More and more I am convinced that
the work of the Church must be done at the Universities
nay, at Cambridge. It is too late to shape men afterwards,
even if they could be reached. Everything forces me into
the belief that the only possible organisation of a spiritual
power the paramount want of the time is there, and
that there it is possible. I do most heartily rejoice that
you say almost as much. I hope that the Bishop of London
knows that you think so. I am afraid that I may have
seemed self-willed to him. How much I should have liked
to talk of these things, but I must not think of going out
this Christmas. My Cambridge engagement is an act of
incredible (and irreparable) rashness committed, I suppose,
once in a lifetime. Perhaps it is well that I shall have a
week s hard work there. My late sorrow has been a strange
experience. 1 ... I will look over the revise in a few days.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
1 The death of his father.
v HARROW 293
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, zznd January 1868.
My dear Lightfoot Hort tells me to-day that at Joseph
Mayor s suggestion he is meditating offering himself for
Hulsean Lecturer. I have strongly urged him to do so. It
would be an immense gain to him to produce something, and
when the plunge is once made he will feel the good which
comes from it in many ways. I cannot but hope that you
will feel with me, though you are not equally free to speak.
Benson spent Sunday with us. He seemed remarkably
well. I tried to make him see the true relative position of
Cambridge and Lichfield. He had not realised that the
former must be the seat of the spiritual power of the nine
teenth century. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. E. W. BENSON
HARROW, ist February 1868.
My dear Benson Very many thanks for your note, 1 which
was a real comfort to us. What a noble transformation is
figured in that word "sister" in the Burial Service. How
easy too in such a case to present the simple type which we
have known for a time in an abiding shape. . . .
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, ztfhjtily 1868.
... It is a great relief to me to find that you agree with
what I have said about Comtism. Your former note rather
alarmed me, and I should have been distressed if we had
differed in fundamentals. More and more I wish that you
would put on paper your thoughts on the great subject of which
you spoke at the beginning of the year. More and more we
seem to need to go to the beginnings of things. Those who
1 Dr. Benson s note of sympathy in the matter of the death of his god
daughter Constance is published in his Life, i. 257.
294 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
hold the truth seem to hold it irrationally. I can dimly
imagine a new way for establishing old beliefs. There is not
surely any other complete definition of religion than "the
co-ordination of God, man, the world."
On the Irish Church we agree in everything apparently
but the conclusion. I could not have signed the petition,
because it was used for a purpose with which I have no
sympathy. For a State to divest itself of its religion seems
to be as sad a spectacle as can be conceived. . . .
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
HARROW, 1st August 1868.
The Philippians came yesterday. I had time only to read
the preface and the end, with both of which I agree most
heartily. What a pleasure it is to read what one would
gladly have written. We don t differ so much as you pro
fessed about the Stoics.
The Bibles have nearly crushed me. I am longing to
think uninterruptedly about the " spiritual power " which is
to be organised at Cambridge. You must come to Langland
to be made pontiff. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To C. DALRYMPLE, ESQ.
MOSELEY, 8M September 1868.
. : . What you say of the Irish Church is, I think, most
just. Three or four years ago I implored some Conservative
friends to press the question upon the party. Nothing was
done and now there is chaos. Of the two parts I dread dis
establishment more than disendowment. A free Church
may be the end towards which we have to work, but at
present it would be disaster. The clergy are not educated
for government. Disendowment would be an injury to the
State (on Platonic principles), but, as I firmly believe, a gain
to the Church. But what is "Establishment"? Is there
not very strange confusion in the use of the term ? To me
it simply means legal recognition and legal obligation. It
v HARROW 295
may be difficult to fix the conditions of recognition ; repre
sentation in Parliament is certainly not one of them those
of obligation are more obvious. I can imagine nothing more
deplorable than for a State to become without a religion. I
should strive, then, to the uttermost to retain a Christian body
bound to administer, when called upon, every Christian rite to
every subject. This the establishment in Ireland is bound to
do, and I see no way of imposing the obligation on any other
body. I feel sure that this is \h.e. positive fact to hold firmly. I
wish that we could talk the matter over, for it is one on which
I am anxious, and I am impatient of writing when words
cannot be explained. If you do come to town before the
election time, let me see you.
We have had a delightful holiday with Drs. Lightfoot,
Benson, J. Wordsworth, etc., at Caswell Bay, near Swansea.
Kindest remembrances to Lord Bute. Ever yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. E. W. BENSON
HARROW, $M November 1868.
My dear Benson How heartily I wish that I could accept
your kind invitation, but I am groaning this term with most
ungrateful vehemence, and can scarcely get through necessary
work ; but I do look forward to seeing your Bibles, which I
envy you with all (venial) envy.
Advertise Cyprian at once. I felt sure that some such
good result would follow. Send the notice to Macmillan
to-day, and let it first appear in my English Bible, which is
just on the point of emerging.
When I can think, I think of little else than the " spiritual
power " and the Ccenobium. The thoughts seem sent to
me, and yet at present I feel too weak to give myself up to
them. In a day or two I will send you a few words which I
said in Chapel bearing remotely on the subject, which Dr.
Butler thought might be useful if printed. Spanish convents
I see with Mr. Browning s eyes. ... Do send the title of Cyprian
and let it decorate my fly-leaf. We must get some talk before
very long. Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
296 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, 2$tk November 1868.
My dear Hort Your note relieved me. As to publishing
the Gospels by themselves, shall we let Macmillan decide ?
My impression is that we should be less misunderstood if we
gave a short explanation first than if we gave a long one.
I fancy that the wear of school tells seriously upon one s
power of work. I find that I can read, even in the holidays,
very little ; in term time I find myself (alas !) becoming
impatient and irritable, as well as exhausted. There surely
ought to be a law forbidding any one to be a schoolmaster
more than fourteen years. Unhappily the saddest thing is
that the exhaustion which the work brings takes away hope,
and the very wish for hope. There, I have said my worst.
Happily I have still strength enough to read at intervals a
little Browning and a little Comte. The former might be a
prophet, but I am afraid that he won t be one, or rather that
he will tell us no more.
To-day we have the parody of an election inflicted upon
us. Parti-coloured omnibuses express very fairly the character
of the voters who fill them. How many thoughts go to a
vote ? How many convictions or principles to a representa
tive? A general election seems to prove that the British
Parliament must be divine or it could never survive it. Yet
beneath this terrible surface there must be something better.
But how can we get a sight of it ? dra/c<aA.ouc6a-ao-#cu ra
Travra *v X/M. Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
HARROW, 2nd September 1869.
My dear Benson You are of the Old Foundation, I of the
New, and I find it very hard to discover what my duties are,
and with the idea of the Old Foundation I am quite unfamiliar.
We, of course, have nothing really corresponding to your
"prebendaries." The honorary canons are creatures of a
later age, with no specific duties that I can discover except
v HARROW 297
according to the will of the dean and chapter for the time
being, who have, as far as I can see, no power whatever of
legally enforcing their decisions. The legal status of the
New Foundations is indeed deplorable ; that of the Old is, I
fancy, in much legally illegal. However, I have been so
much moved during my month s residence that I think I
must find expression for my feelings in a little paper on
Cathedral work. It may be wholly too late to attempt any
thing, but I am sure that Cathedrals can do what is nowhere
done, and what is more than ever of critical importance to
the Faith. How much I wish we could talk it over. How
ever, I am not sure that I shall be able to get a holiday.
Mrs. Westcott, you will be sorry to hear, has been very poorly,
but the worst is over now I fully trust. My absence, there
fore, has been full of anxiety, for I did not return till yesterday
evening. We long to hear tidings of your delightful party.
But I must not write without asking if you and Mrs.
Benson (pardon the order) can consent to restore outwardly
our interrupted connexion, and receive Grace as your god
child in place of Connie. Mrs. Westcott and I have desired
it very much, and I am commissioned to prefer the petition.
With heartiest greetings to every one, ever yours affection
ately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
HARROW, 2ist September 1869.
My dear Hort The ordination is now over, and I hope
to-day to set to work upon the bundle which I found on my
return from. Peterborough yesterday. I heartily wish that
your note had been all good news. Even I feel the depressing
power of a valley ; but the moors will bring, I trust, freshness
.again. For the last two months I have been living in such
excitement that I cannot tell how I shall be able to use my
new Harrow leisure. It happened when I went for two days
to Brighton I saw immediately on my arrival the strange
paragraph about Mr. Gladstone intending to offer me the
rectory of Brightstone, so that most unwillingly I was forced
to face a new problem, and consider how I should act if
i
298 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
such an offer were made. Last week s work made this, I
think, quite clear. Already there are signs of encouragement
in the candidates, and the Bishop is most ready to sanction
and carry out any suggestions. The Dictionary alone arises
like a wall, but after " A " our work will be easier. I could
scarcely have imagined that Christian inscriptions could have
been so devoid of interest. Certainly not one in a hundred
offers the least point worthy of remark, and the contents of a
country churchyard would have far more literary value than
the whole body extant. You see I am groaning under an
unindexed De Rossi, but that is more than half done. . . .
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
HARROW, i$h October 1869.
My dear Davies There has been a long pause in the
Dictionary. For many reasons I have been glad, for it has
given me time to read through the great mass of Christian
Inscriptions, so that I have taken no pains to move the
printers forward. At present the first sheets Ambrose does
not come in them are being finally arranged in order to set
free some type, for there is a great deal standing. After
" A " I do hope things may go on more smoothly. The
ground will be cleared, but at present we have to feel our way
in every direction, and all the while wonder whether the
little names are worth the trouble which they give. Ever
yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
HARROW, 2yd October 1869.
My dear Benson I have much to thank you for for the
interest which you have expressed in Grace, for your note of
yesterday when you found that you could not come to-day,
for your criticisms, for your encouragements but how can I
do it?
As for Grace, we decided at once to defer her christening.
Mrs. Benson holds out the hope that you may be able to
v HARROW 299
come later, and we could not give up the thought of your
visit to us. So we will wait.
As for Cathedrals, I feel ashamed to have written anything,
but at the time it seemed impossible to refrain. If only you
will follow up the paper by a view of the Old Foundation, I
shall lay aside all regret. I had not before realised the
immense differences between the Old and the New, and
though " in private duty bound " I attach myself to the latter,
I trust that you will tell us something more of the original
constitution of English Cathedrals. It is not, I am sure, too
late to save them.
All this is personal, but I have to thank you too for the
letter about . Though I regret the appointment or
rather s acceptance of it I did rejoice to read what
you said of him. Some things you had said to me before,
but the public testimony showed the possibility of the
deep sympathy which binds Christians together becoming at
some time visible. Before long we shall hope to meet. There
is (?) a year s arrears of talk. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
HARROW, lath December 1869.
My dear Benson I have not thanked you for your letter.
It was a great comfort to me. There is nothing new in the
prospect before us, but, very wrongly and weakly, I often feel
quite alone. Will anything short of the Ccenobium bring
the confession of sympathy and purpose which seems to be
required for all sustained effort ? It will be an immense
delight to see you in our Cathedral. We will try to call up
some of its lessons. I cannot think what the monks did in
it. Let me have one line to know when I may meet you, for
our precincts are a labyrinth. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
PETERBOROUGH, 2oth April 1870.
. . . For a day or two we have no home. I left Harrow
on Monday ; Mrs. Westcott and the youngest children come,
300 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP, v
if all be well, to-morrow, and then the new life is faced. This
much by way of preface.
I have carefully thought over your note, and feel no doubt.
The same kind of problem had occurred to me, but I was
then clear, for myself as I am for you, that pastoral work is
the work of a lifetime, and that the work of teaching, as a
rule, should be kept distinct from it. If you took a parish,
and then in a short time (as I hope) passed to a cathedral, I
think that the interval would be something worse than a
"loop." There can be no doubt that your present work is
one of definite and peculiar usefulness to which you have had
a " call." It seems equally clear that if the opportunity arises
you ought to take Cathedral work, which in some sense com
pletes and carries it on. It does not seem to me that parochial
work lies in the same line. . . .
" Constes in Gratia " 1 was at least fulfilled. Ever yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
1 My father s departure from Harrow was saddened by the death of his
little daughter Grace Constance. Dr. - and Mrs. Benson were Grace s
sponsors, and Dr. Benson had given her a little gold cross with the above
inscription.
CHAPTER VI
PETERBOROUGH
1869-1883
MY father was installed in his canonry at Peterborough
on the festival of the Epiphany, 1869. In the follow
ing month he returned there for work in connexion
with the Bishop s Lenten ordination. He then en
countered Peterborough in a characteristic condition
under water. He describes his coming to the city in
a letter to his wife :
THE PALACE, PETERBOROUGH,
19^ February 1869.
My first day s work is now, my dearest Mary, drawing to
a close, though I have still my papers to look over. The
day has been bright, and all has been most pleasant and
reverent. Fate threw me yesterday into sporting company.
Pray tell Mrs. de Morgan that, in spite of the clerical accuracy
of my costume, and the breadth of brim to my hat, which she
admired (justly), the first remark addressed to me in the train
was, " Have you been to the races to-day ? " I don t know
whether it makes it better or worse that my querist explained
that he, for his part, had been drinking champagne all day.
This little conversation and two (successful) protests against
smoking constituted the whole story of my journey. When
we reached Peterborough we seemed to halt on an island.
The reflection of lights in the water on every side, white,
301
302 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
green, and red, reminded me of the Venetian fete at Bruges.
But still I reached the Palace in an omnibus and not a
gondola, and to-day I have taken a walk and not a row. So
you see that the place is not all under water. . . .
In August 1869 he entered on his first residence as
Canon. His house was not yet ready, and so he went
alone to enter on his new work. His first sermon was
preached on the 8th. It had always been a great physical
effort to him to preach, even in such a comparatively
small building as the Harrow School Chapel, so that he
was full of anxiety at the prospect of preaching from a
Cathedral pulpit. He was, however, cheered by the sight
of a large congregation, and wrote to his wife to tell
her that he was not more than usually fatigued after
the sermon, but had not dared to ask whether he was
audible. His voice did, as he had anticipated, marvel
lously improve with practice, and he who in earlier
life had not dared to preach in a large church was not
afraid in his advanced years of preaching in St. Paul s
Cathedral or York Minster, and made himself fairly
audible even in the Albert Hall, by reason of the great
pains he bestowed on distinct articulation.
His earliest impressions of his new work are set
down in the following letters to his wife :
PETERBOROUGH,
iQth Sunday after Trinity, 1869.
It is a memorable day which is drawing to a close the
first of my new life. It has been intensely exciting, and so
far fatiguing, yet not without hope. You have doubtless
been often with me, and there is need of help to keep one s
faith and hope alive and look beneath the surface. But faith
is omnipotent even in a Cathedral town.
The Bishop goes thoroughly with the changes which I
vi PETERBOROUGH 303
had proposed, and as far as his counsel and countenance
goes, sanctions them ; but there is evident need of caution
and patience, and we cannot move more than one step at
a time.
In the afternoon the congregation was quite large. The
only drawback was the music, which was certainly very bad,
in execution and in feeling. Here I am not clear as to
speedy success.
On Tuesday the whole weight of the Cathedral will rest
on me. The Dean goes, and the Archdeacon, and Canon
Argles. At present I find that I cannot muster up much
dignity. Perhaps it is a plant which will grow on the sunny
side of a Cathedral.
2oth August.
I expect that I shall burst into print about Cathedrals.
Frankly, I see nothing to be said for them as they are.
They have no work, as far as I can see, to plead. Perhaps
it is a hard judgment, and much may lie beneath the surface,
but the life at least lies hidden.
The days sweep by and are certainly exhausting, but the
exhaustion comes chiefly from misgiving. After all, it may
be too late to do anything. The work wants a younger life
and a free one. So I fancy, yet I was trying to show last
Sunday among other things that it would be terrible to reap
all one sows, though we are impatient to do so. Good is
happily not an annual.
One of my father s earliest innovations was a quiet
early morning service in one of the side Chapels of the
Cathedral. He was fearful at first lest he should have
no congregation at all to join with him. He wished
the townspeople to take an interest in these 8 o clock
services, and met with some little response from them.
On Wednesdays and Fridays he delivered lectures after
the early Litany. His earliest expositions were of the
Psalms, but in later years he took St. John s Gospel for
his subject.
304 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
The fruits of his first residence were published in
the shape of a small volume of sermons entitled, The
Christian Life, Manifold and One. The little book is
dedicated to his colleagues, Dean Saunders, Archdeacon
Davys, and Canons Argles and Pratt. Touching their
publication, he wrote to Mr. A. Macmillan :
By this post I send six sermons my first labours at
Peterborough and shall be much obliged if you can kindly
tell me how much they would cost to print in the simplest
possible form with a limp cloth cover. I should like to be
able to distribute them among some of the Cathedral con
gregation, and perhaps others might care to see them. How
ever, I am not inclined nor able to spend much upon the
luxury.
A sermon preached by my father on the Franco-
German war in the summer of 1870 attracted some
notice. Of this sermon he says in a letter to his
publisher :
My hope was that it might be useful as a tract, perhaps to
boys. You see that I feel strongly and not quite popularly
Will you take the trouble to say how many may be printed,
and whether it needs a cover probably not. I think it may
be worth 2d.
In June 1870 Bishop Magee offered my father the
Archdeaconry of Northampton. I can well remember
my father, in one of his playful moods, telling us what
a temptation the gaiters were to him. He declined the
preferment, however, because he was unwilling to accept
an Ecclesiastical as distinct from an Educational office.
In this judgment he was confirmed by Dr. Lightfoot.
To accept the Archdeaconry would have been to abandon
the hope of Cambridge work. When he received the
offer he thus wrote to Professor Lightfoot :
vi PETERBOROUGH 305
PETERBOROUGH, ibthjune 1870.
The Bishop has just offered me the Archdeaconry of
Northampton. It is not a very valuable piece of preferment
as far as income is concerned, but it opens a distinct sphere
of work. It entails an eight months residence, and I could
not hereafter resign it without resigning my canonry too. In
the present case I should exchange canonries with Arch
deacon Davys, a process which could not be repeated. On
the other hand, the office might have life put into it, and
be made really an archdiaconate, a means of training the
younger clergy. I think you will see sufficiently well what
the reasons for and against are. Help me then to decide.
His refusal was already penned when he received
Dr. Lightfoot s reply, advising him to decline the offer.
Thus assured that he had done right, he desired that
no more might be said about the matter.
The move to Peterborough was a great venture
of faith on my father s part. He had a large family
to educate, and yet he exchanged the comparative
opulence of a Harrow house master for the precarious
income attached to a canonry in an impoverished
Chapter. Our manner of life was already adapted
to the idea of the Ccenobium in its strict simplicity,
so the only luxury that could be abolished was meat
for breakfast, which, however, was retained as a Sunday
treat. No means being forthcoming for the customary
summer outing, my father was induced to avail him
self of a continental chaplaincy and take his holiday
alone. He failed, however, to derive any pleasure or
^benefit from this solitary excursion, and returned much
discouraged. On his way to his destination, Gersau,
he traversed the fringe of the great war then raging,
and wrote some long descriptive letters, from which
these passages are taken :
VOL. I X
306 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
COLOGNE, 30^ August 1870.
. . . The train by which we came showed us the first
signs of the war. It brought a small detachment of men of
different regiments vigorous, manly -looking fellows. On
leaving the station I saw a train crammed with soldiers
coming from the north, and the whole city swarms with
them. Nearly every man has a pipe in his mouth, and they
step along with a will, not as if they had any misgiving.
Most of those whom I have met here wear the bronze cross
for the Austrian war.
While I had tea I looked at the numbers of Kladderdatsch
the German Punch. It is, of course, filled with the war.
A rather spirited poem on Napoleon, " The Living Dead,"
struck me. He is supposed to go round his camp and find
every one treat him as non-existent. Some of the drawings
are good. One specially struck me. A French soldier one
of the keen wild type is looking into a looking-glass, marked
La Grande Nation, " on one fine August morning," and sees,
instead of the reflection of his own face, a stout Prussian
guardsman. Another was amusing, addressed to the Zouaves
friends, i.e. the German ladies, who are supposed to pet them.
A gay lady is attending to a group of them, while a laurel-
crowned, burly Prussian stands by and quietly remarks, "If
you forget us completely, Mam selle, we won t bring you any
more of the wild beasts." . . .
DARMSTADT, y.st August 1870.
. . . We met train after train filled with soldiers some
grenadiers of the guard, a volunteer regiment of students, and
regiments of the line. All were full of spirits ; nearly all
smoking; many singing. On the carriages was chalked over
and over again " Eilgut nach Paris," and the inscription was
the wittier since the carriages were, for the most part, those
used for light merchandise, hastily fitted with light benches.
At Bonn we saw the litters for the wounded for the first time.
There were also enormous trains of stores, flour apparently,
and cattle and the like. These came in quick succession till
we reached the station where the line to Saarbrueck goes off.
VI
PETERBOROUGH 307
Just now a great train of soldiers has come in singing. They
have come from Mecklenberg, travelling day and night. The
provision for sleeping is very simple . . . but the men are
merry enough. After a few minutes of lively confusion the
bugle sounds and they all mount, and the train passes on.
Now another comes in ; this time with cavalry singularly
fine men in a gay light blue uniform. They do not wait
long, and another train comes. I went on to the platform
to look at them, and joined with the people in cheering them
off. Before they had cleared the station another train came
in from the opposite direction : this time with the wounded.
It was strange to see the two actually side by side, and to
place cheers and sighs together. However, these men were
only slightly wounded, with hands and arms lost and the like.
As the poor fellows dismounted I did not like to stay long to
look at them, but went back to think of the two sides of the
war picture. . . .
The spire of Strasburg was clearly visible. From time to
time we thought that we could see little puffs of white smoke,
and a great column of black smoke marked some fire or other.
But we could hear no firing. Even into Basle the tokens of
war followed us. Just as I had reached my room a band was
heard, and a regiment of Swiss soldiers marched by in full order,
the remnant, I suppose, of the force which was collected to
guard the frontiers. . . .
My father communicated some of his views on
" Cathedral Work " to Macmillan s Magazine, in a paper
which appeared in January and February 1870. At
the outset he remarks :
Four great principles, as it seems, underlie the constitution
which is outlined in all Cathedral statutes. Two contain the
trieory of Cathedral life ; two contain the theory of Cathedral
work. The life is framed on the basis of systematic devotion
id corporate action; the work is regulated by the require-
lents of theological study and religious education.
The following letters to Canon Benson on matters
308 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
canonical make mention of the above-mentioned paper,
and also of an article which he contributed to a collection
of Cathedral papers edited by Dean Howson. The
title of my father s paper was " Cathedral Foundations
in Relation to Religious Thought." Those who have
studied these essays and followed the Canon s work
at Peterborough will recognise how earnestly he en
deavoured to put his theories into practice.
To CANON BENSON
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2nd May 1871.
My dear Benson I had some talk (for a second time)
with Cubitt when I was at our last Revision meeting on the
possibility of carrying out a scheme for reviving suspended
canonries in some one diocese for an experiment. He was
quite prepared to support the idea liberally, and the Bishop
of Peterborough is also prepared to give his help towards
realising it. As a preliminary step, Cubitt was most anxious
to get some letters written on the subject, and thought that
you might be willing to put parts of your article in such a
form. Do so if you can. There is some hope of a private
meeting on the subject towards the end of May. Could you
be present ? As yet all is uncertain, but I really think that
there is good hope for the scheme. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, yd May 1871.
I have only seen your first letter. But from that specimen
I cannot doubt that the letters reprinted would do good
service. I am sure you may trust Cubitt s judgment. Thus
I say without hesitation, Reprint !
I gave in my paper in Macmillan my reasons for not
including preaching in the characteristic work of Cathedrals.
They should, I think, be places for study, training, and re
freshment for the clergy. . . .
vi PETERBOROUGH 309
Will you let us have some outlines of work which can be
done with such resources as we have. My thoughts are
turning to a kind of clergy -house, for candidates for Holy
Orders and for retirement. This, with some organisation for
religious inspection and church finance, would represent the
whole work fairly. But do tell me what you think.
PETERBOROUGH, \%thjuly 1871.
My dear Benson After much hesitation chiefly per
suaded by Hort I have promised to write a short paper
for the Dean of Chester. Roughly, I proposed to him to
say something on the first topic suggested in the preliminary
memorandum, calling my paper "Cathedrals and Religious
Thought." Thought, that is, in relation to (i) study and
teaching, (2) devotion, and (3) mode of life. Of course,
anything which I say will be very fragmentary, but with a
view to our scheme here it seems to be worth while to say
it, and you may perhaps be willing to enforce and supple
ment what I can say, or to fill up a Cathedral theory. I am
rather afraid of the pressure of immediate results, and shall
aim at what is transcendental in many people s eyes.
But "the Speaker s" 1 made me bitterly sad. I suppose I
am a communist by nature; but surely dress and jewels
cannot be tolerated even in this world for ever. What a
" Commentary on the Bible," could the people of Whitechapel
have seen it, that would have seemed !
PETERBOROUGH, zqthjuly 1871.
What I want you to treat of above all things is the relation
of the Cathedral to the Bishop. To this you have given
special attention, and no one else is very likely to dwell
upon this subject. Round this centre other questions of large
organisation would group themselves. You probably mean this
by Redintegration, i.e. Bishop + Chapter + Clergy + Diocese
the social life once more complete.
1 Some entertainment given by the Speaker in connexion with the Com
mentary.
310 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
PETERBOROUGH, 2nd September 1871.
You must not despair, or even admit the least discourage
ment. It would, I think, have been wrong to admit the whole
greater Chapter to a representative assembly. Certainly it
would have been unwise at present. The Bishop, however,
made a great mistake in not consulting (as on a great matter)
with his larger Chapter on the general question of the Con
ference and of the Synod. The larger Chapter is really a
Synod, and should be called together as such by the Bishop.
Certainly we are here living in hope that the Bishop will
summon the greater Chapter, though it exists only by courtesy.
But you must not by any means allow yourself to think that
your privileges or duties have been lessened. The greater
Chapter elects the Bishop, to say nothing more. And as for
the Conference, I was perfectly satisfied that the Dean and
one Canon should represent the Chapter here. . . .
Do let me hear that you see your way clear again. I am
beginning to be in despair about Nottingham, but still hope
to make a beginning to-morrow.
In the matter of study and training my father
attempted something by drawing to Peterborough year
by year earnest theological students, whose work he
rejoiced to direct. I remember a fairly constant succes
sion of these, but their individuality escapes me. One,
at any rate, was Marsham Argles, who surrendered his
life in the cause of Christian work in India. Another
was Canon Scott Holland, who thus describes his
experiences * :
My first sight of him \sc. Canon Westcott] had been in
Peterborough Cathedral, all but thirty years ago. I had gone
with a friend to read with him for Deacon s orders. He was
giving lectures on St. John in a side Chapel ; and all through
the first lecture we could hardly believe our eyes. This tiny
form, with the thin small voice, delivering itself, with passionate
1 The Commonwealth^ September 1901.
vi PETERBOROUGH 311
intensity, of the deepest teaching on the mystery of the In
carnation, to two timid ladies of the Close, under the haughty
contempt of the solitary verger, who had been forced to lend
the authority of his "poker" to those undignified and new
fangled efforts was this really Dr. Westcott? We had to
reassure ourselves of the fact, as we emerged, by repeated
asseverations that it certainly must be.
Then, the first interview revealed where the secret of his
power lay. We had never before seen such an identification
of study with prayer. He read and worked in the very mind
with which he prayed ; and his prayer was of singular intensity.
It might be only the elements of textual criticism with which
he was dealing ; but, still, it was all steeped in the atmosphere
of awe, and devotion, and mystery, and consecration. He
taught us as one who ministered at an Altar ; and the details
of the Sacred Text were to him as the Ritual of some Sacra
mental Action. His touching belief in our powers of scholar
ship used sometimes to shatter our self-control ; and I well
remember the shouts of laughter which we just succeeded in
mastering until we found ourselves outside in the moonlit
Close, when he confessed his disappointment at our not re
calling the use of a certain verb in the Clementine Homilies
we who, at that moment, had but the dimmest concep
tion what the Clementine Homilies might be. Sometimes he
would crush us to the dust by his humility, as when, after
we had gaily turned off, at a moment s notice, our interpreta
tion of some crucial passage in St. John, he would confess,
in an awe-struck whisper, that he had himself never yet dared
to put down on paper his own conclusion of the matter.
Another important function of Cathedral Founda
tions, according to my father s expressed opinion, was
, the quickening of the intellectual and spiritual life of the
diocese. His own efforts to do his part in this great
service are continuously apparent in his Peterborough
work. He promoted devotional gatherings of clergy
and church workers in the Cathedral, and served the
same end by means of Church Congress papers on
i
312 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
subjects of study and devotion. The following letter
of thanks from the clergy of Peterborough shows how
his labours to this end were appreciated :
PETERBOROUGH, $ist August 1878.
Dear Canon Westcott We are most desirous that you
should not terminate your present residence without our
expressing how fruitful for good we feel that residence has
been to this city and neighbourhood. We have to thank you
specially for the most valuable gathering of the clergy for a
Day of Devotion, and for the Special Services for those engaged
under us in Church work in our several parishes. These
gatherings have indeed fulfilled your expressed wish in being
a "spring of sympathy and strength." By such means as
these our grand inheritance of the old Minster becomes a
living thing, loved by those who gather within its walls.
Looking forward to a renewal of our happy association with
you, and with hearty and sincere thanks, we remain, yours
most truly,
HENRY S. SYERS, Vicar of St. John Baptist.
W. R. THOMAS, Vicar of St. Mary s.
CHARLES R. BALL, Vicar of St. Paul s.
D. M. MELVILLE, Curate.
REGINALD TOMPSON, Rector of Woodstone.
His Church Congress papers include those delivered
at Nottingham in 1871, at Leeds in 1872, at Brighton
in 1874, and at Leicester in 1882. The last of these, on
The Communion of Saints, seems peculiarly associated
with Peterborough, and is published in a volume of
Peterborough Sermons. The subject, too, is one so
very dear to himself. He had an extraordinary power
of realising this Communion. It was his delight to be
alone at night in the great Cathedral, for there he
could meditate and pray in full sympathy with all that
was good and great in the past. I have been with
vi PETERBOROUGH 313
him there on a moonlight evening when the vast
building was haunted with strange lights and shades,
and the ticking of the great clock sounded like some
giant s footsteps in the deep silence. Then he had
always abundant company. Once a daughter in later
years met him returning from one of his customary
meditations in the solitary darkness of the chapel at
Auckland Castle, and she said to him, " I expect you
do not feel alone ?" " Oh no," he said, " it is full " ; and
as he spoke his face shone with one of his beautiful
smiles.
One of the immediate fruits of the Leicester Address
was the institution of an annual Commemoration of
Benefactors in the Minster.
Great services in the Cathedral Nave, where
thousands could be gathered, were always his delight.
He secured the establishment of Nave services on the
Sunday evenings in Advent and Lent, and laboured
successfully to form a large Voluntary Choir to help in
the musical portion of these services. During his
residence in the summer various full Nave services were
held : at one time for volunteers, at another for railway
men, at another for Oddfellows, at another for Sunday
School teachers. He was always ready to preach to
such gatherings.
The following letter to his wife indicates the success
of some week-day evening services during Advent :
PETERBOROUGH, i6th December 1880.
Yesterday evening the rendering of the selections from the
Last Judgment was admirable ; better than anything I have
heard here before. There was a large congregation, and the
manner of the choir was most reverent, and Dr. Keeton s accom
paniment perfect. I saw Mr. Phillips and Dr. Keeton after,
314 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
and I must see the choir to-day. Mr. P. says that they have
taken most kindly to the extra work, and shown the greatest
interest in it. We shall really have a St. Peter s Festival after
all. Last Sunday there was a grand nave service in the
morning for the Agricultural Benevolent Society. Three or
four corporations appeared in state, and over ;ioo was
collected. The Bishop preached a very fine sermon. There
were special trains. Altogether the Cathedral is looking up.
Some part of his regular Sunday morning sermons
during each residence was generally a connected
course. In 1874, f r example, he preached a course
of seven sermons on " Some Elementary Truths of the
Christian Faith." The substance of his sermons
during the residence of 1881 was published in the
volume entitled The Revelation of the Risen Lord. In
like manner The Historic Faith contains the sermons
preached in 1880.
Of my father s work, as represented by The Para
graph Psalter, Precentor Phillips will speak. But I
note that on the day on which he sent the first copy
of this Psalter to the press he had been reading Daniel
Deronda. This leads me to say a word about his
novel reading. Once a year, that is to say in his
holiday month, September, he was wont to indulge
himself with a novel. His library of fiction was very
limited. I believe that I could catalogue it from
memory. Many a time have I searched it for a book
to read, and these are all I can remember having seen :
The Scarlet Letter, Jane Eyre, Villette, Romola, and John
Inglesant. These books do not represent the sum of
his novel reading, but they are an indication of what
books he considered, after careful reading, to be
worthy of a place in his library. He ventured on
some criticisms of John Inglesant, which had been
vi PETERBOROUGH 315
brought to his notice on its first appearance from a
Birmingham press. He afterwards had some corre
spondence and conversation with the author. My
father considered Romola to be the best novel of our
time. In this opinion Mr. Shorthouse, I gather, did
not acquiesce ; for the author of John Inglesant says,
" It would be presumptuous in me to speak of the
talent and research displayed in Romola^ but . . ."
In 1875 m y father was appointed an Hon. Chaplain
to the Queen, and succeeded to a Chaplaincy- in -
Ordinary in 1879. One of the sermons which he
preached before Her Majesty at Windsor contained a
touching reference to the recent death of the Prince
Imperial in South Africa, and my father was requested
to send the sermon to the Queen in order that Her
Majesty might read it again. With that enthusiastic
loyalty which was characteristic of him, he copied out
the whole discourse in his best writing, and forwarded
it for perusal. As touching my father s devotion to
the Throne, he used to tell how in early days, at a
time when the Prince Consort was not very popular, he
had met him out driving and given him a hearty cheer,
and then taken a short cut across the Park in order to
give the Prince a second loyal reception.
In 1877 mv father preached one of a series of
King s College Lectures, his subject being Benjamin
Whichcote, the " father of the Cambridge Platonists." 1
In 1 88 1 he was appointed by Mr. Gladstone a
member of the Ecclesiastical Courts Commission. In
the labours of this Royal Commission (1881-1883)
he was very zealous, and took " a leading part in the
work of research." Although no legislation followed
1 Published with the others of the series in Masters in English
Theology,
i
316 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
on the Report of the Commission, it did valuable
service to the Church of England in that it asserted
its continuity and " went behind the Reformation."
In speaking of Archbishop Benson s work on this
Commission, my father says: "It was my happiness
to sit by Benson s side, and to watch as he did with
unflagging interest the gradual determination of the
relations in which a national Church must stand to the
nation, itself also a divine society, and to mark, now in
one form, now in another, the essential continuity of our
own ecclesiastical life under changing circumstances from
age to age. The ruling ideas of the Lincoln Judgment
were really defined by these inquiries." ]
About this time some kind friend presented my
father with a cat. But it seems that his gratitude for
this treasure of the Peterborough home went astray,
for a friend writes to him :
I sent no cat ; am a/cara^e/A^as. If you have thanked all
your friends for the cat (in order to be sure), what would you
do should each send you a cat to cover his weak position ?
But I will suffer from your gratitude and spare you.
It may seem frivolous to introduce this cat, but it
was no ordinary puss, for it won the esteem and
affection of Bishop Lightfoot. The good Bishop,
during a brief stay at Peterborough, lost no opportunity
of fondling that cat. Moreover, " Miss Lightfoot," as
we always called her, or her daughter, is, I believe, the
heroine of the following letter :
Really my table is bewitched. This morning I heard a
faint " mew " again from its inmost centre. In spite of the
sermon, I took off the top, and hunted in the papers, but
could see or hear nothing. After a time the cat came into
1 Life of Archbishop Benson^ ii. 192.
vi PETERBOROUGH 317
the room and disappeared. Then it was discovered that
there was a space between the ends of the drawers in which cat
and kitten were. Evidently the old cat had revealed the
secret. Now, don t cats talk ?
The mention of this cat brings to mind my father s
affection for a certain dog. He was not fond of dogs
in general ; but this particular dog had belonged to
one of his sons, and when that son left England my
father insisted on adopting the animal, though he had
grave doubts as to his fitness for so responsible a
charge. He honestly feared that he might through over
indulgence fail to bring out the best features of the dog s
character. In one of his letters my father says that
nature had not endowed him with the gift of tears ;
but as he stood on the quay-side seeing that son off to
Canada, the tears were pouring down his cheeks. That
was the only occasion on which I ever saw him weep.
The little fox-terrier was called " Mep " (his full name
being Mephistopheles), and he survived long, being for
some years my father s companion at Auckland Castle.
They used to walk together on the terrrace, and the
Bishop always had in his pocket some fragments of
biscuit wherewith to regale his friend. Mep justified
my father s fears by developing a most uncertain
temper, which was the cause of much anxiety to the
Bishop, who was more than once warned in the matter
of keeping "a ferocious dog." The Bishop in after
years was wont to declare that these words should
form part of his epitaph : " He cleaned the Gaunless
and the Coundon Beck, 1 but was foolishly indulgent to
his dog."
In January 1883 Canon Westcott delivered at
1 Two streams that flow through Auckland Park.
3i8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Gloucester a lecture on " Monastic Life." This I take
to be the last item of his Peterborough work. It was at
Peterborough that he had been continually studying
this subject, and every fragment of the old monastic
buildings there was familiar to him in all its details.
It was a treat to any one to be conducted round the
Cathedral and the Close by him. He would gladly do
such service for parties of interested visitors. Amongst
those whom he so served were members of the Birming
ham Archaeological Society and of the British Medical
Association ; but he was quite as ready to help the
humblest, .and, if there was nothing else that they
could appreciate, would take them to the top of the
Cathedral Tower to admire the view.
His Gloucester paper opens thus :
Our Cathedral buildings at Peterborough are far from rich
in works of sculpture, but among the works which we have
there are two which have always seemed to me to be of the
deepest interest. The one is a statue of a Benedictine monk,
which occupies a niche in the gateway built by Godfrey of
Croyland about 1308 ; the other is the effigy of an unknown
abbot of considerably earlier date, carved upon the slab
which once covered his grave, and which now lies in the
south aisle of the choir. They are widely different in
character and significance. The statue of the monk, which
Flaxman took as an illustration of his lectures on sculpture,
is one of the noblest of mediaeval figures. The effigy of the
abbot has no artistic merit whatever. But both alike are
studies from life ; and together they seem to me to bring
very vividly before us the vital power of early monasticism in
England.
Mention has already been made of some of my
father s literary work at Peterborough in connexion
with the published volumes containing sermons preached
in the Cathedral. But his great work on the Gospel
:^< -i*- i; |ftuijfiSB;
^m-iU. vl : :.!^^Yv^
TiTi
SOUTH-WEST SPIRE OF PETERBOROUGH CATHEDRAL.
From a Sketch by Canon Westcott (p. 318).
vi PETERBOROUGH 319
of St. John was undertaken when he was as yet only
a Peterborough Canon, and his earliest lectures on it
were delivered in the little Chapel of St. John in the
Minster.
In May 1869 he received two letters from the
Dean of St. Paul s (Dr. Mansel), stating that the
Archbishop of York was anxious that he should under
take the Gospel of St. John for the Speakers Commentary.
His acceptance of this proposal practically involved
the surrender of his long-cherished hope of bringing out
a commentary on the Greek text of the Fourth Gospel,
as part of the contemplated " tripartite Commentary."
In his diary under date 22nd May he notes: "St.
John Commentary undertaken eV ^^HO-TO)." In May
of the following year he took his degree of Doctor of
Divinity at Cambridge.
Besides his continuous work at the text of the
Greek Testament, he was also occupied in Ecclesiastical
biography.
In his Harrow days my father had pointed out to
Mr. Rivington the great need that there was for a
Dictionary of Christian Antiquities ; so it was natural,
when this project began to take shape under Dr.
William Smith s general editorship, that he should
take a leading part in its inception. In conjunction
with Professor Lightfoot he undertook the editorship of
the sections devoted to Literature and Biography, to
Sects and Heresies, and to the History of Doctrine.
This undertaking, however, was not of a binding
character, and in 1873 tne Cambridge professors were
^compelled to seek release from their editorial labours.
My father s promised contributions, however, were
completed, the most important being his articles on
the Alexandrian divines, including Clement, Demetrius,
320 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Dionysius, and, greatest of all, Origen. For many
years the works of Origen were close to his hand, and
he continually turned to them at every opportunity.
In January 1877 he lectured on Origen at Edinburgh.
He thus describes his experiences at Edinburgh in
letters to his wife :
EDINBURGH, i6th January 1877.
... I have been to see the place of lecture, a very
formidable kind of theatre, which is certainly difficult to speak
in. However, I intend to purchase some jujubes and trust to
fate. The Secretary impresses upon me the necessity of not
exceeding my hour ; and I have marked passages to be left
out which will, I hope, give me margin. . . .
EDINBURGH, I jth January 1877.
My first lecture is over, my dearest Mary, and I at least
obeyed (as I believe) my two conditions : I was heard, and I
finished just at the hour. I held my watch in my hand and
was resolute in keeping to time. There was a very good
attendance. People seemed to be surprised that the subject
proved attractive. The hearers, too, were quiet and attentive ;
but they had nothing specially to try them. One of the first
persons who came into the Committee room was Mr.
Robertson of Market Deeping. I have just been to lunch
with him. At least I had one kindly-disposed hearer, and Dr.
Donaldson was another. There was a very large gathering at
Mrs. Murray s yesterday. Lady Dundas came in among
others, and Gordon Duff s sister, as well as Graham Murray
and his wife, so that I was quite among Harrow friends. . . .
His Dictionary article on Origen was not completed
until 1886. Preaching in Trinity College Chapel, 1 the
Master, making affectionate mention of my father as
" this good man, this great scholar, this dear friend,
1 On 1 3th October 1901.
vi PETERBOROUGH 321
this abiding glory of our College," pronounced Origen
to have been " a man after his own heart," and said, " I
have been reading again lately his fine essay on the
great Origen and the Beginnings of Christian Philo
sophy. 1 Not a word in it, nor yet a silence, that
breathes suspicion against that gracious name. Nothing
to decry, to cramp, to fetter thought. Throughout,
spoken or unspoken, we hear the lofty prayer for light
light from the Father of lights, light through the
Eternal Spirit, who * in all ages, entering into holy souls,
maketh them friends of God and prophets/ "
In a selection of my father s letters to his children
attached to this chapter will be found mention of his
tricycle and of the Precincts cricket eleven, and with
out some word about his interest in his boys holiday
recreations this chronicle of his Peterborough life
would be indeed imperfect.
The tricycle merits prior consideration. It had
long been known in the family circle that he was
greatly desirous of possessing a tricycle, but the idea of
buying one for himself would not enter into his mind, as
he would surely have viewed such a proceeding as selfish
extravagance. The family, therefore, subscribed and
purchased for him a respectable second-hand machine.
With this worthy engine he was immensely pleased, and
soon worked himself up into the belief that his machine
was at all points the most admirable tricycle on the road.
Many a time on a summer evening, after the Cathedral
afternoon service, he would go out on his tricycle escorted
by sons on bicycles, to visit and sketch neighbouring
.churches. A favourite excursion was to Norman Cross,
where on occasion he would be tempted to take tea.
The Precincts cricket eleven was, as my father had
1 Now contained in his Religious Thought in the West.
VOL. I Y
322 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
expected, a comparatively good team at one time. It
was composed of six of ourselves ; three of Dean
Perowne s sons ; and two of Precentor Phillips s sons,
including Mr. Stephen Phillips, renowned now as poet
and dramatist. My brother Foss was in the Cheltenham
eleven and Stephen Phillips was also a cricketer, so that
we were able to render a fairly good account of ourselves
in our games with the village clubs of the neighbourhood.
My father used from time to time to encourage us with
his criticisms. He himself occasionally joined us in a
game of " stumps," and obtained some reputation as a
cunning bowler. Sometimes he would come with us
for a row on the river Nene, but always as a passenger,
his injured hand making it impossible for him to wield
an oar with any degree of comfort. The most astonish
ing, however, of all my father s athletic feats were those
which he performed at Hunstanton. There, in the
late summer, the sober tradespeople of Peterborough
and Cambridge viewed with delighted astonishment the
learned professor and canon, with a great jumping-pole
in his hand, leaping from rock to rock with amazing
audacity and skill.
My father s connexion with Peterborough was most
abruptly severed. He resigned his canonry, at the
request of Bishop Magee, on Qth May 1883. Upon
this most unhappy occurrence, which was to my father
himself a great surprise and shock, it would be futile to
enlarge. The Bishop s contention was that my father
neglected his duties as Examining Chaplain, and should,
if he resigned that office, resign his canonry also. My
father replied as follows :
CAMBRIDGE, gth May 1883.
My dear Lord I very much regret that my engagements
yesterday and the day before made it impossible for me to
VI
PETERBOROUGH 323
answer your letter. Let me at once thank you heartily for
the kindness with which you speak of some of my past work.
I can at least so far accept your words as to feel that they
represent what I have tried to do during the long period for
which I have held the offices which you entrusted to me. I
have given ungrudgingly from first to last, without the least
variation, the best I have had to give. It is true that during
fourteen years I have been absent from two examinations
when the Trinity Ember week fell, as this year, in full term
time, and in addition from two, it may be three, days of
ordination for urgent personal reasons which you kindly
approved ; on the other hand, I have, as a matter of course,
and gladly, sacrificed every Christmas vacation, a time which
is at my own disposal, so as to leave myself only one month
in the year for rest and travel.
Whatever may have been the effect to myself, I believe,
and others have commonly expressed the same belief, that it
has been, on the whole, an advantage to the diocese and to
the Cathedral, that I have held my professorship ; nor do I
think, if my strength had continued to bear the strain, the
advantage, whatever it may be, would have been less in the
future. But your Lordship can judge on this point far better
than I can, and I can well believe that you will be able to
appoint some one to succeed me who may serve the Diocese
and the Cathedral more continuously, though I am not
conscious that there has been any change either in the
measure or in the zeal of my own services. I must add that
I have always considered the Chaplaincy and the Canonry as
two perfectly distinct offices with distinct duties. I accepted the
Chaplaincy without any idea that I should receive the offer of
a Canonry, and I have always supposed that I might continue
to hold the Canonry, even if I were relieved of part of the work
of the Chaplaincy. Indeed, your Lordship some time since
expressed (as I understood) the same opinion. You kindly
proposed, when I spoke of the pressure of work, to appoint
some younger man who might take some part of the
examination. "I have been sometimes inclined to think
that I ought to resign my Canonry " (these were, I think, the
words that I used), because you have not, as you once
3 2 4 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
proposed, taken any steps to help me in the difficulties which
come (for example) from an early Easter, not because I was
conscious of failing in my duty, but because the change in
your purpose might, I thought, perhaps show that it was your
wish that I should resign my office. I am, therefore, very
glad that I expressed my misgivings, because I learn from
your letter, if I do not misinterpret it, that they were better
founded than I had supposed.
While, therefore, I am, if I may be allowed to say so,
unable to affect to be in accord with your Lordship in this
matter, or to admit the justice of the reasons which you
assign for your wish, I readily accede to the wish itself. I
beg leave to resign my Chaplaincy, and to resign also my
Canonry, which I regard as a perfectly distinct and separate
office. Under the circumstances, it is desirable that the
resignation should take effect with as little delay as possible. I
had made arrangements for coming into residence on June ist.
This, of course, I cannot do now, but my successor will have
no difficulty in providing for the services. My own appoint
ment fell during the time of residence of my predecessor.
I trust that I have not expressed myself with unbecoming
plainness. Your Lordship, while speaking with undiminished
kindness, has entirely, but not unnaturally, mistaken the
meaning of what I said before, and I am most anxious that
it should not be said or thought hereafter that I resigned my
Chaplaincy or my Canonry because I felt that I had not
fulfilled, or that I should not fulfil, the duties attached to the
offices. However painful it may be to make such a state
ment, it is due to myself to say that I think that I have done
so, and that I was prepared to do so in the future to the
best of my power. Your Lordship has made me understand
that you judge very differently, and for this reason, in
obedience to your wish, I have resigned the charges which
you committed to me.
Let me, in conclusion, express an earnest hope that, in
whatever I have been to blame during these fourteen years, in
whatever I have erred through ignorance or through weakness,
I may be forgiven. Believe me to be, my dear Lord, yours
most faithfully, B. F. WESTCOTT.
vi PETERBOROUGH 325
The sudden resignation in the month immediately
preceding that in which the Canon would have come into
residence caused no small stir in Peterborough. My
father received many letters from bewildered persons.
The perplexity and consternation which reigned in
the Cathedral body is very evident from the letters
received from all its members at the time. The resigna
tion was in truth a complete surprise, and its cause a
mystery. But, curiously enough, the notices which
appeared in the press were quite clear as to the reasons.
The following paragraph from a widely circulated
society weekly reflects the accepted view :
Dr. Westcott s resignation of his canonry at Peterborough
has taken the diocese by surprise, and is generally regretted in
the city ; but, although only recently disclosed to the public,
it is understood that several months ago he intimated his
intention to the Bishop, and we should have heard earlier of
the step but for Dr. Magee s lengthened absence abroad. Dr.
Westcott has recently found that his duties as Regius Professor
of Divinity at Cambridge are quite sufficiently engrossing, and
that the necessity for taking his three months of " close "
residence at Peterborough is an inconvenient tax upon his
time. The Bishop has appointed the Very Rev. Dean
MacDonnell, who has for many years officiated as one of his
chaplains, to the vacant canonry, and he was formally installed
by the Dean last Monday. For the first time for many years
the ancient custom was revived of ringing the bells of the
parish church in honour of the installation of a prebend of
the Cathedral.
The incorrectness of this suggestion was demon
strated by the twin facts that my father accepted an
Examining Chaplaincy to the Archbishop of Canterbury
within a week of his resignation of the like service to
the Bishop of Peterborough, 1 and accepted a Westminster
1 He would not accept this new appointment until Bishop Magee had
been consulted.
326 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Canonry within a few months of his removal from the
Peterborough stall.
It is a great happiness to be able to add that the
former friendship between my father and Bishop Magee
was very soon renewed. The Bishop, who was so
dangerously ill in the following July that it was feared
that he would not live, sent (through his old friend
Dean MacDonnell) a touching message to my father
from his sick - bed. In his reply to this letter my
father says :
I need not say that my thoughts have been with you day
by day. We know not what to ask, but we can ask that the
will of God, which is our truest will, may be welcomed and
fulfilled by and in us. You will believe that from the moment
when I heard of the Bishop s illness I put wholly out of mind
the painful and wholly unintelligible circumstances of my
removal from Peterborough. I have thought only of number
less acts of kindness and confidence, which I shall always
gratefully remember. All that might have seemed different
is now for ever forgotten, and I trust that I may be allowed
to show the Bishop how gladly I will continue to serve him in
work which he will do yet, as we pray, for the Church of
Christ, according to my power. . . .
When, years after this, Bishop Magee was translated
to the See of York, none welcomed him more warmly
to the northern province than did my father, who was
at the time Bishop of Durham.
The sermons which my father had proposed to
preach during his residence at Peterborough in the
summer of 1883 were published under the title of The
Revelation of the Father. Copies of the book were sent
by him to those friends who might have been looking for
ward, as so many did, to his message from the Cathedral
pulpit. In the preface to the volume he says :
vr PETERBOROUGH 327
It was my intention to deliver the substance of these
lectures during my summer residence at Peterborough in the
present year. Very shortly before the time of residence came
my connexion with the Cathedral was most unexpectedly
broken, and my purpose was consequently unfulfilled. I
have reason, however, to think that some to whom I had been
allowed to minister for fourteen summers would have followed
with interest the examination of a subject which we had
already approached eleven years ago, and it has been a
pleasure to me to continue so far as I could the old relation
by revising week after week what I had hoped to address to
them. Such friends will, I trust, receive the result as a
memorial of a connexion on which I shall always look back
with affectionate gratitude.
On Easter Eve of the following year my father
received as a gift from some of his Peterborough friends
a handsome bookcase made from some of the old oak
taken from the central tower of the Cathedral. Writing
to Mr. W. Clarabut to acknowledge this gift, he says :
The beautiful gift which your letter announced reached me
on Easter Eve. No gift could have been more welcome or
more precious. The design, the material, the workmanship
all add to its value and interest, and it will be, I hope, in all
years to come a treasure to those who shall follow me.
Thoughts of Easter were those on which I delighted during
my residence at Peterborough to dwell most constantly.
They bring before us more than any other thoughts the trans
forming power of our faith. That my friends there should
have connected their memorial with this season is a fresh
proof of their sympathy.
I do not know whom I have to thank personally, but you
will, I am sure, convey to my friends the expression of my
deep sense of their kindness. I have given in the little
volume of lectures which I had the pleasure of sending to
those who would, I thought, be interested in them what is,
as it were, a parting message. My main desire from first to
last was to use the office which I held in the Cathedral as an
328 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
opportunity for learning and showing, as I could, something
more of the wealth of Holy Scripture. So far as I was
enabled to attain this end, and to encourage others to study
on the same lines, the work will have been amply rewarded,
and it will continue to be fruitful.
The loss of work at Peterborough was quickly followed, as
you remind me, by the offer of similar work, though far
heavier and more responsible, at Westminster. That offer I
felt it my duty to accept ; but no one can feel as keenly as I
do how greatly I shall need the support of every friend that I
may fulfil in any degree for the service of Christ and His
Church this new charge. May I ask you and my other
friends at Peterborough to think of me at Whitsuntide in that
clause of the Litany where we ask for the illumination of the
ministry ? We can be strong only so far as we realise our
union in many parts and in many fashions as one Body in
Christ, as members of the Body of Christ, living by the energy
of His life.
May all among whom I was allowed for so many years to
labour know the fulness of that life! Ever yours most
faithfully, B. F. WESTCOTT.
In his text -book on St. Peter s Day 1883 my
father enters the three words " Not at Peterborough."
It had been his hope to assist at a worthy celebration
of this festival in the city bearing the Apostle s name,
and he thus simply notes his disappointment in his
removal from the scene.
The following are some selected letters belonging
to this period (1869-1883):
To MRS. HORT
HARROW, igth October 1869.
My dear Mrs. Hort May I ask a favour of you ? When
I was at Peterborough I put on paper a few thoughts about
vi PETERBOROUGH 329
Cathedrals, which have troubled me. I should be very glad
to know that Mr. Hort agrees with me in the main, and yet
I dare not send the proof to him, for he would, I fear, allow
it to distract him from other work. But if you thought that
he might read through the pages at tea-time in half an hour,
not more, and simply add a query or a cross to anything
doubtful or wrong, it would be a satisfaction to me. If, how
ever, you think that the temptation to elaborate criticism
would be too strong, then I will only ask you to return the
papers to me at once.
I trust that the week on the moors brought all the good
to Mr. Hort which you expected. If I may judge from his
letters, he seems to be very vigorous now, and I am sanguine
that the Lectures will be a relief. It is an immense comfort
to me that the diminution of my school work makes it possible
for me to go on steadily with the terrible text.
Brookie has largely developed the schoolboy s wants and
feelings : his notes speak commonly of want of money and
the joys of football. My godson has not reached this stage
yet, but I hope that he is moving towards it. Believe me
to be, yours most sincerely, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
PETERBOROUGH, z^thjune 1870.
My dear Lightfoot Dr. Smith s letter is an immense relief.
If he is willing to relieve us, I rejoice. However, he has
never been without abundant supplies unused. As to the
Onomasticon, I cannot quite agree with you, as I always shrank
from it, and when that is removed all is in good train. There,
you see, I am prepared to resign unconditionally if Dr. Smith
wishes it. A conference would be impossible for me just now.
I have been absent so much that I must not go away again
till the next Revision meeting ; but I will make you my
plenipotentiary on the condition that you find me relief from
the burden. I don t want to write any articles. Really now
I don t think I can afford to contribute. The best thing for
us to do will be to furnish Dr. Smith with lists of the men
330 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
whom we have engaged and leave him to proceed. I expect
that he is more alarmed by the size than the slowness, and
there is something to be said on this point from the commercial
point of view. . . .
I hope that I am clear about Dr. Smith. All that I care
for is to be set free, as he proposes, this course, and the sooner
the better. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
PETERBOROUGH, 28/7* June 1870.
My dear Davies Your volume of Sermons 1 has been lying
on my desk for many days reproaching me silently, and one
petty duty after another has delayed my thanks. Constant
preaching, to which I am not accustomed, made the sermons
unusually welcome, for it is a great refreshment to hear some
voice besides one s own, and to be hurried into new channels
of thought. If I may pick out one sermon, shall it be that
on Indulgences ? In this it seems to me that your fairness
has given you a power of exposing the substantial immorality
of the theory which I never saw so clearly put. Protestants
are generally both unjust and weak on this point. But I
prefer to enjoy the sermons to criticising. Ever yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
(On the Franco-German War.)
PETERBOROUGH, yd August 1870.
Your most kind note makes it necessary for me to say
how far I do not agree with you. I cannot, on the evidence
before me, find that France is much more to blame than
Prussia, if at all. This war is but the second act of the
Austrian war, and as far as I could judge that war was more
unjustifiable than the Italian war. Probably Bismarck is much
more adroit than Louis Napoleon. But I do not think that
he is one bit more honest or more patriotic. Prussia was
obviously no less unwilling to submit to arbitration than
1 The Gospel and Modern Life.
vr PETERBOROUGH 331
France, and even if it were otherwise, we must remember
that all Prussia wishes is to keep what she has unjustly
seized. She has her share of the plunder already. We
failed culpably to speak in the Danish war, in the war in
South Italy, in the Austrian war. Now at length I hope that
the people will make their voice clearly heard the Govern
ment seem helpless and profess that nations have faith and
truth.
Probably the letter to which you refer spoke of another
sermon which followed that which I sent you, in which I
tried to base our duty of public prayer " for those afflicted by
war" on the idea of the brotherhood of nations. How
unnatural the destruction of small powers really is : how
pagan in essence ! In this too Comte has seen the Christian
theory of states.
To THE REV. DR. MOULTON
PETERBOROUGH, zyd August 1870.
My dear Professor Moulton The text which Dr. Vaughan
has published remains unchanged from the first edition, and
represents in the main my recension at that distant date
without conference in details with Mr. Hort. We have now
revised the text together, and the joint work will differ in
many details from the text given by Dr. Vaughan. I have
not, however, any copy of it which I can send you, but in a
short time I could tell you our judgment on any special read
ings. You received, I hope, a little sermon which I ventured
to send you, chiefly because the occasion made me think of
the infinite strengthening which our joint Holy Communion
brought us. Yours very sincerely, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
THE DEANERY, WESTMINSTER,
lyh December 1870.
... On getting to Westminster I had just time to dress
myself. On coming down I found a short, stout gentleman
alone in the drawing-room, with a bright, pleasant face, clear-
332 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
cut aquiline nose, nearly bald, and to my surprise the servant
said, " Le Pere Hyacinthe " ! I should have been bewildered
had not I heard that he had been some little time ago at
the Deanery. He spoke no English, and for some time I
was obliged to try my best to answer his questions and talk a
little in French, in which effort he very kindly encouraged me
by his understanding my desire to speak. As he spoke of
the work of Revision, I had a little to say. Mr. Blakesley was
the only one besides at dinner, and only French was spoken.
Lady Augusta was far the best. The Dean was copious, but
not very good. I preserved a discreet silence, but listened
with satisfaction.
To HIS WIFE
CAMBRIDGE, i&h February 1871.
... I feel very strongly about the " Deceased Wife s
Sister s Bill." On that I have never wavered. Some few
wealthy people have broken the law and they wish to escape
the consequence of the offence. The agitation is utterly
uncalled for. I don t see a single argument in favour of the
Bill, and against it is the whole theory of family life.
PETERBOROUGH, 6th August 1872.
I have been looking for the hundredth time at Dr.
Arnold s Life looking with wonder and profit. How he did
his work I cannot tell. He was forty-seven when he died.
So strong and tender !
To THE REV. DR. MOULTON
PETERBOROUGH, 28t/i January 1873.
My dear Professor Moulton You have fairly defeated me,
and I surrender at discretion. May I say that, pondering over
your known kindness, and fearing lest one incautious word or
act on my part might lead you to do what you have indeed
done, I took counsel with myself, and thought that if I kept
absolute silence till our next meeting I might borrow your
vi PETERBOROUGH 333
notes on the spot. 1 But your most generous and unsparing
labour has anticipated me. I can only hope that I may learn
from your patience and self-denial. This fragment of the
work, I can say honestly, is that which I shall always value
most, and I am glad that it has its own external character.
All being well, I trust to return to Cambridge on Friday
evening, and, as far as I can see, I shall not again be pre
vented from attending our meetings by official work till July
at least. I cannot offer you such thanks as I would : accept
such as I can give. Ever yours most sincerely,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
HUNSTANTON, 2qth ftine 1873.
If you load me with these irredeemable debts, I shall find
my only safety in retiring from the Company. I do not see
how I can dare to be absent again. No injunction can
restrain your labour. You must, however, let me say that if
unhappily I should again be kept away from a meeting, I will
only receive the loan of your notes, if you will allow me this
favour. I shall value your little books as the most precious
of my records, but now they have filled their vacant place.
To HIS WIFE
PETERBOROUGH,
loM Sunday after Trinity, 1873.
It is impossible not to feel some satisfaction at having
preached my last sermon of this residence. Sermons certainly
don t become less anxious, nor more pleasant. However,
one ought to be glad to say what one has to say ; but that is
so hard, and then one has not faith, as one should have, that
words, however spoken, if true, will do their work. I wish I
could have courage just to throw down the paper and ask
whether I make myself clear, and whether any one believes
me ; whether I believe myself in any practical way. Truth
fs so wonderfully large that I wonder when any one says,
"This is all false": all false and it is? You see that there
1 Notes taken at a N.T. Revision meeting, which my father was unable
to attend.
334 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
is something of a sermon still left in me ; but for the rest I
must be a Quaker preacher.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
PETERBOROUGH, \yth September [1873?].
My dear Benson Ta dp\aia 7rapfjX.6V I8ov yeyove Kouva.
Can any words be fuller of promise and teaching than these,
which I just read in the Cathedral? May you find them
more and more true day by day. And then what will be
wanting ? I rejoice that you are able at once to make a good
beginning of work. As to the questions, I seem to see my
way very clearly.
Tell everything to the Dean and Chapter. They will at
least see that with such offers you could but make the
experiment. This experiment seems to me to be free from all
risk, while it is a great absolute good. The Chapter, as such,
clearly has no voice in the matter, yet it must be right to lay
the whole plan before them and win their sympathy, as, I feel
sure, you will do more or less speedily.
To HIS WIFE
PETERBOROUGH,
2nd Sunday after Trinity , 1874.
When I came in just now a full moon made the Cathedral
"ebon and ivory." I shall try now to put some thoughts in
order for next Sunday. It is very hard to recall one s own
thoughts at Ordination. My two seasons were very unhappy
in many ways, and I cannot now bring back any word then
spoken. Yet it ought not to be so. I suppose that no text
was impressed upon us. How strange men s fancies are ! I
find that the attendance of the clergy in surplices at Mr.
Perceval s funeral is regarded as part of " a vast conspiracy
to subvert the principles of the Reformation." . . . Really
things are puzzling. Why cannot we trust one another a
little more ?
vi PETERBOROUGH 335
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
PETERBOROUGH, 2ist July 1875.
My dear Hort Twice, as you know, our circle has been
broken. Connie, who was called away first, seemed to me
the brightest of our children, and I can see her still as clearly
as any of them ; but I cannot I could not even at the time
feel altogether without thankfulness if the battle has been
short. A brother or a sister who is always a child is a
precious joy to a family. I hope that Mrs. Hort may not be
over-wearied with the long anxiety. We have often thought
of you, and Fossie has been delighted to send, as he thought,
good tidings. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
21 st December 1875.
My dear Mr. Macmillan -Very many thanks for the
Bishop s sake, and many for myself. I shall be very glad to
have "George Eliot." Romola is, I think, the greatest novel
of the time. Darwin I have already. If you happen to
come across Mill s letter, I shall be very glad to have it.
With every good wish, yours very sincerely,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
A sad fear has just crossed my mind that no copy of the
last edition of the Canon was sent to Dr. Ceriani. Please
send one, suitably bound, with the writer s most grateful
acknowledgments.
To THE REV. DR. FARRAR
CAMBRIDGE, 24/7* April 1876.
My dear Farrar I have only just heard that you have
really accepted the Canonry at Westminster. May you find
all the happiness and blessing in this new work which you
have found at Marlborough ! There is no place in England,
336 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I have always thought, which has the same interest as West
minster, not even Canterbury. The Confessor s Chapel is
unique in the world, and must inspire those whose office
encourages them to take its lessons to themselves. Wishing
you again most heartily all strength and joy, ever yours most
sincerely, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
TRINITY COLLEGE, Ascension Day, 1876.
:My dear Benson Lightfoot told me of the offer. 1 We had
indeed spoken of the matter as soon as the vacancy was
known. I could only say as I felt, that it seemed to me that
in the present crisis Calcutta requires a man who is not
divided. We must accept the fact that much is impossible
for us which might be possible if we were free ; on the other
hand, perhaps there is compensating power. As the question
appeared to me from without, I could not then plead against
your judgment, however much I should have rejoiced if you
had found a distinct call. The work in itself is, I think, the
greatest in opportunity which the whole Church can offer.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
(Bishop Designate of Truro)
CAMBRIDGE, 7//z March 1877.
My dear Benson Wickenden s criticism to me is a
little more flattering. I venture to think that a Bishop s
shield should have an episcopal sign upon it, and that early
heraldry is not always simple. . . .
I2th March 1877.
Do you not want the cross of St. Patrick (if any) ? At any
rate, I deprecate green as the colour of modern Ireland. I
share Wickenden s fear of excessive complications. Could
1 Of the Bishopric of Calcutta.
vi PETERBOROUGH 337
you (another alteration) take the fifteen bezants in a chief
sable ? It is the border, of course, which complicates :
(A drawing of the shield.)
My last suggestion ! and perhaps monstrous, but I cannot
even look to see possible horrors. (Another drawing). Ever
yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
You might on this last device represent nature by the leaf.
But ? ? ?
To HIS WIFE
WESTMINSTER, I jth May 1877.
My Wagner zeal was effective and I went in due course to
the Albert Hall. The concert was not too long not more
than two hours and the music was quite a new sensation.
It is, of course, a very long time since I heard any orchestral
music, but still I cannot think that I ever heard any like this.
Even at a first hearing the combinations and successions of
different groups of instruments carried one away, and as two
pieces were repeated, it was easy to see how much their effect
would be increased by knowledge. One piece was intended
to create an impression answering to the contemplative repose
of an old German Sunday. I felt as if I could have thought
out a sermon while the sound bore one along. The overture
was a holiday, and its parts brought out in the liveliest
manner the different groups of holiday-makers. I wish that
you could have been with me. Even alone I clapped
vigorously.
To CANON FARRAR
CAMBRIDGE, i^th December 1877.
My dear Farrar It was a great pleasure to me to see you
in your home and in your work this morning. I must thank
-you too for letting me speak on a subject which is, if possible,
more near to my work than yours, as I have still to deal with
the young. I am sure that, as charged with the office of
teachers, our duty is to speak with simplicity as we see the
VOL. I Z
338 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
truth a very little of the truth and to refuse to enter into
controversy. Let Scripture slowly speak its full message. It
was, I see, the last chapter of Difficulties of Belief, by Mr. Birks,
to which I referred. Ever yours most sincerely,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
PETERBOROUGH, 26th August 1878.
My dear Hort We have been thinking of you in Wales
very often, and I have been imagining an Introduction taking
shape in a modest form. It will, I feel sure, be impossible
for you to find satisfaction without a second volume, but that
will necessitate a short preliminary statement for the text.
It would not be difficult to make such a provisional notice,
and I do not feel absolutely pledged to Macmillan to have
the text ready for printing this year. I do not in the least
fear the effect of partial criticisms, if a clear statement be
given of what we have done, and generally why.
Though I have had no one reading with me this summer,
I have done very little. I hope to finish the rough copy of
the notes on St. John for the press ; only a part of a chapter
now remains but Sermons are terrible, and a Dean will be
a great relief. The appointment did not much surprise me.
I knew that Perowne was anxious to leave Cambridge, and
Lightfoot told me that he wished this place. He comes to a
Chapter burdened with debt, to a very large house and a
small income. He was here last week, and most pleasant
and hopeful. His leaving Cambridge just now is most per
plexing. The practical vacancy of the Hebrew chair com
plicates everything. I have not heard from Lightfoot since
the appointment was made. We hope to meet the Bensons
on Monday on our way to Etretat (Hotel Hauville, I
believe).
As for politics, I rejoice at least that some one has had
courage to incur responsibility. Appeals to the mob had
taken all heart out of me. I really intend to vote at the
next elections (as far as I can see) in gratitude. Ever yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
vi PETERBOROUGH 339
To THE RIGHT HON. G. CUBITT, M.P.
E.C.C., LONDON, 22nd July 1881. ;
My dear Cubitt As our work goes on, I am beginning to
feel very anxious from the difficulty of getting representative,
and especially statesmanlike, evidence. We have heard many
witnesses, chiefly clergy and ecclesiastical lawyers, but they
regard the problems of Church action from one point of view ;
and, if I may venture to say so much, they do not give very
much help towards the practical solution of the questions
before us. Few things can be more unpleasant than to
appear as a witness, but there are occasions when stronger
influences overcome even this displeasure, and several of us
hope that you will be willing to say how you regard the
matter of Church jurisdiction. I would not express my
own earnest wish if I did not feel that the need is urgent.
Perhaps I exaggerate the importance of the crisis, but it
seems to me that the future of our Church may be very
greatly affected by the work that is being attempted now;
and I am inclined to think that those who speak most often
and most readily may not represent the sum of English feel
ings. At any rate, no effort must be spared to gain as clear
an expression as possible of the different views of Churchmen.
Sir R. Cross tells me that he hopes to see you on Sunday.
He will, I am sure, support my request and press it with
more weighty arguments. There is indeed cause for doing
what we can ; this thought only justifies me in being here.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.]
To THE BISHOP OF DURHAM
PETERBOROUGH, yd August 1881.
My dear Bishop Very many thanks for the Magazine,
which is full of interest. I dare to make one criticism on
the readers on Church Courts. . . . His evidence was most
unsatisfactory, and even flippant. I wish that you could
have had some one of more sympathetic views to balance
him. . . . But what a work it is ! It is a perpetual night-
340 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
mare. That thought brings a main question. Where are
you going in September? It must be (say) 500 miles from
Durham.
How vivid Dr. Vaughan s picture of the young Arthur
Stanley was, and how new ! But what a blank there is which
cannot be filled up ! Still, the work was done, and done with
great joy. But fix the place where we can meet and breathe
in September. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR HORT
PETERBOROUGH, i$th August 1881.
My dear Hort Your note reflects, I think, the passing
wave of cold and rain, or I should feel more unhappy about
it, for it does not breathe the vigour of the mountains. But
I can sympathise with you, though just now two young Eton
masters are here reading a little in preparation for Holy
Orders, and they rouse one with fresh thoughts.
I enclose a note which came from Godet. I replied, as
on other grounds I wanted to write to him, that I did not
see how to tell what the Apostles meant without first deter
mining what they wrote a truism which seems to have
become a parodox.
You missed Dr. Thayer. He called here for half an hour
a most bright, vigorous man. He thought that the text
was beautifully printed. . . .
PETERBOROUGH, ijthjuly 1882.
The next (and last) E.C.C. meetings will be very anxious.
It seems doubtful whether anything can really be done. I
have written a little memorandum, as oil- upon the waters,
but I am not very sanguine.
To THE REV. DR. MOULTON
PETERBOROUGH, ztfhjuly 1882.
I never see periodicals except by some rare chance, and I
have not noticed anything about the English Bible except the
vi PETERBOROUGH 341
certain determination of the printer of the G. H. Tyndale
(Tindale), which followed from my happily stumbling on a
tract in our Chapter Library. Mr. Bradshaw has written a
paper on the point. He had most ingeniously conjectured
what our little tract proved to be fact.
To THE BISHOP OF DURHAM
CAMBRIDGE, 17 th May 1883.
My dear Bishop Very many people, I find, are greatly
distressed at words put into the Archbishop s mouth by the
Standard. He tells me that he did not speak of " the throne
of the martyred Laud." Hort thinks that some one should
contradict the alleged quotation. Should not you do this?
If you don t correct, perhaps some one else will. Hort
thinks that the phrase will be much worked. Alas ! alas !
Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR HORT
CAMBRIDGE, 2$rd July 1883.
. . . You will be very glad to hear that I had this morning
a very touching message from the Bishop of Peterborough.
All (in which I thought him wrong) will, I hope, be for ever
forgotten. It was a very great relief to me to hear.
The following are selected letters to his children,
written during this period :
To HIS SECOND DAUGHTER
ST/IPPOLYT S, Thursday.
My dear Katie You have been such an excellent secretary
tliat I must send you one line it will not be much more
to thank you for doing your work so well. I can understand
perfectly the meaning of the different notes about which you
tell me, and so I have been able to do all that they require.
342 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
We were not able to leave Peterborough till nearly four
to-day. All the morning after service I was listening to
little boys from Arthur s to Brookie s age singing for places
in the choir. There were only two places, and we had
twenty-one candidates. Was it not strange for me to be a
music judge ? Of course, there were others who could judge
far better, and we were able to agree on the first, and two
seemed equal for the second place, and they will have to
try again.
We are very glad to hear that you are all well and happy.
Tell Brookie that I am looking forward to the good effect of
his teaching Arthur.
With love to all, your most affectionate father,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
TO HIS ELDEST SON
PETERBOROUGH, 2qth January 1873.
My dear Brooke We were very glad to hear of your
promotion and Arthur s placing. Both advances have, I
hope, been well deserved, and will be well maintained. I
should like to know what your subjects are for the term.
I may have some books which will help you. If you are
doing any verse subjects you will find it an excellent plan to
keep notes of characteristic Greek or Latin turns of thought
or language. Nothing is more useful for style than this. I
have my old note-books still.
Keep fresh all your good resolves ; and while you work,
work with all. your heart. At other times, if home thoughts
can happily mix with all you do, you will be happy and do
what we all wish. Ever your affectionate father,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
TRINITY COLLEGE, i$tk May 1873.
My dear Brooke We should all have been very glad if
you had been successful in the Scholarship Examination, but,
as I have often said, it is of more consequence to do one s
best than to get scholarships or prizes, and if failure helps us
VI
PETERBOROUGH 343
to find out our faults and moves us to mend them, then
when the first disappointment is over we may even be
thankful for them. It is a very long time since I read in
Plato that the worst thing for a man is to get a reward
without deserving it. Your uncle has very kindly written to
me, and what he says of the Examination is, on the whole,
quite encouraging. Your Greek Translation seems to have
been your best paper, and I think that I should prefer your
doing well in that to your doing well in any other. . . .
Take as much pains as you can with the repetitions, and try
to keep them up after they are said. Nothing is so valuable
for composition. I told mamma that, hard as the Epistle to
the Hebrews is, I thought it best for you to use only your
marginal references, and to take down carefully the notes
given to you. In this way you will really learn most.
Paley s notes on ^Eschylus are full of interest, but you won t
enjoy the Agamemnon fully till you have read it ten times.
The Chapel bell has nearly done, and I have a lecture this
evening. Love to Arthur. Ever your most affectionate
father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To A SON
BOURNEMOUTH, %th April 1874.
You would probably be as much distressed as we were by
the last term s report. Only one thing in it gave a little
hope, that there was some improvement towards the end.
I trust, then, that when you looked over what you had done
and could do in the prospect of Confirmation, you felt your
faults and resolved by God s help to mend them. I know by
my own experience how very hard it is to keep attention
resolutely fixed, and to strive always to do one s best. But
we can be satisfied with nothing less ; and whatever our
weakness may be we can be made strong to fulfil our duty.
You will need, I am sure, to fix very stern laws for your own
guidance, to mark out hours with an inflexible law, and keep
to them. It will be a great help also to pause from time to
time in the midst of work and to quietly ask yourself whether
it is your best, and if not as often it will not be to send
344 LIFE OF BISHOP VVESTCOTT CHAP.
one winged thought upwards and get strength in answer to it.
Every day which sees duty done with lack of zeal will make
you weaker; every effort, of course, will make you firmer.
I wish that I were at home that we might read something
together, but Daisy will encourage you to throw your heart
into what you do. If you fail in your new endeavours do
not be troubled : you will not fail in the end. May God
bless you and help you to do all that we would have you
do ! Ever your most affectionate father,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS SONS
PETERBOROUGH, ^ist August 1875.
My dear Brooke Arthur Harry George Foss
Bernie Basil On the evening before we start, as we hope,
I will write to send you all good wishes and hopes for a happy
week at Peterborough before you are scattered to work again.
(Does Basil work yet ?) From all I can learn, these have
been happy holidays, and I have been very glad to have the
scraps of work which have reached me. I am quite sure
that work heartily done does not make play less pleasant.
If we carry out our plans, I expect that we shall bring
home many amusing recollections of Brittany. It is a place
which I have longed to see since first I knew that there was
another Carnac besides that in Egypt. Perhaps the stone
army will not seem so imposing in reality as it is in fancy.
But in any case the gathering of those strange, rude monu
ments must be impressive, even if we cannot believe that
Druids had anything to do with them. Shall I give each of
you a riddle of advice ?
Br. Look at everything all round, behind and before, and
then at last decide what you will do with it.
A. Build solidly and don t stuff up holes with putty.
H. They can conquer who believe they can. First
thoughts are best.
G. They win who think they may lose. Second thoughts
are best.
F. When you have done a thing, do it again and again.
vi PETERBOROUGH 345
Be. If you are happy enough to be right, be thankful. If
you are wrong, blame yourself.
Ba. Be very merry, and get strong while you can.
Love to all. Ever your affectionate father,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS SECOND SON
CAMBRIDGE, Quinqtiag. Sunday, 1876.
My dear Arthur I am glad to hear that you have sent in
your name as a candidate for Confirmation. We shall all
often think of you during the time of your preparation. In
many ways, no doubt, it will seem as if school were a bad
place for the quiet thought which you will wish for, and yet
all my Harrow experience confirmed me in the belief that
school is the best place for a boy who wishes to do his duty
to prepare himself solemnly for his work in years to come.
He is face to face with the kind of difficulties which he will
have to meet afterwards in other shapes, and I feel sure that
he can get the help which he needs to support him. Con
firmation is a very great opportunity, and we believe, of
course, that that laying on of hands is much more. It is a
kind of Christian ordination, with its consecration and its
blessing. If there are any other boys in your house, whom
you know well, who are preparing too, you might find it a
help to join with them in reading. This will give you more
courage and steadfastness. Try to make the great facts of
Faith real to yourself. Pause, for instance, when you read
slowly the Apostles Creed, and think what each clause
means, as if the history recorded were present to you. May
God teach and strengthen you !
Give my love to Brooke. Ever your most affectionate
father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS THIRD SON
CAMBRIDGE, 2&k March 1877.
My dear Harry Till this morning I quite fancied that
your Confirmation would be put off. Georgie had said that
346 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the Bishop was unwell, and as you come home this week, I
fancied that it would be too much of a hurry. However, by
this time you are confirmed, I hope, and full of confidence
for the future. It is a great turning-point in life. I can
remember my Confirmation very well, but it was not so
happy in its circumstances as yours has been ; yet I was very
thankful for it, and found it a great help. You will do so,
too, I do not doubt. As we look for much we find much.
That is a very great word which tells us that " all things are
possible," yet, as we try to live in the spirit of it, I do not
think that it will disappoint us.
May God bless you and guide you in the years to come,
and teach you to see your duty and to do it in His strength !
Ever your most affectionate father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS SECOND SON
CHURCH STRETTON, nth September 1877.
My dear Arthur I must wish you a happy term at the
beginning of your first work by yourself. It will be pleasant
to have Gould for a few weeks to help you in shaping new
duties, for I gather that he feels clearly the need of authority
in managing a large house. I am very anxious, as you know,
that the prefect system should be made to prosper. It
requires care and thoughtfulness, but it is good alike for all.
You will be able to look after Foss a little, and see that he
keeps with a good set. I think that he is anxious to work,
and knows how much depends upon it, and I hope that he
will have fair opportunity for working. To-day has been
very wet, and the artillery were unable to practise. We hope
to get out to Ludlow or Shrewsbury to-morrow if it is fine.
You would be interested in the Certificate list. Eton seems
to have done far the best of the great schools. Their mathe
matics seem to be good. We are living quite without news
papers here. The Daily News is quite unknown. Ever
your most affectionate father, R R WESTCOTT
vi PETERBOROUGH 347
TO HIS FIFTH SON
CHURCH STRETTON, i \th September 1877.
My dear Foss You will now be fairly entered on your
new life, on which, as far as we can tell, all the future will
depend. I hope that you will have a very happy time, and
you know well how to make it so. Don t be hasty to make
friends. For the first time you can look quietly about and
see what boys are really like. Arthur will be able to give
you some hints, though I daresay that you will not see much
of him. A boy s language is a sure sign of his character,
and I should say quite certainly that you should have nothing
to do with a boy who uses words which you would not wish
your mother to hear. This is a very simple rule and a very
good one.
We hear that you had a very cheerful time at home, and
the weather was beautiful last week. Ever your most affec
tionate father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS CHILDREN
FILIIS SEPTEM
SEPTEM SAPIENTES
UT NUMERO
ITA STUDIIS UTI SPERAT
MOX REPRAESENTATURIS
NECNON FILIARUM PARI
AEQUAE PIETATIS
DISSIMILI AFFECTU
CONJUNCTISSIMO
GRATIAS
HABET AGITQUE
PATER
PRAETERITI MEMOR
FUTURI PROVIDUS
LONDINI, ID. JAN. MDCCCLXXX.
348 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
TO HIS FOURTH SON
EASTBOURNE, i%th April 1882.
My dear George My good wishes come a little late, but
at any rate they are in time as they are expressed, and yester
day was a very full day, though indeed I might have added
a postscript to K. s letter.
Good wishes this year have a very definite point, because,
all being well, you will begin what is, I always think, the
most decisive stage in life. My experience has been that
men are for the most part all through life what their college
course makes them. Habits, tempers, views, friendships
formed then remain with a wonderful persistency. You know
what we wish for you, what you wish for yourself. Work and
life are hard enough, but if they were not hard they would be
worth little. As a motto sufficient for all effort and full of
support in the necessary disappointments and falls through
which we learn and rise, I will give you We are not our
own till we have won ourselves. Love to all. Encourage
Bernard a little whenever there is occasion. Ever your
most affectionate father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
TO HIS ELDEST SON
(Thanks for his tricycle. An interview with " General " Booth.)
PETERBOROUGH, \othjune 1882.
My dear Brooke I have not yet recovered from the
shock of the arrival of the chariot this morning. I am most
deeply touched by the thought of you all. At the same time,
many great misgivings rise in my mind, but I cannot speak
of them now.
The Bishop of Truro and I had two hours conversation
with General Booth yesterday. What he said and looked
was of the deepest interest. Much he had evidently not
thought out. I tried to make it clear that an army cannot
be the final form of a kingdom : that conquest and the
consolidation of the State must go on together. Love to all.
Ever your most affectionate father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
PETERBOROUGH
349
TO HIS SEVENTH SON
PETERBOROUGH, lythjunc 1882.
My dear Basil You will be surprised to have a letter
from me, but I am very anxious that you should take more
pains with the letters which you write home. You do not,
I am sure, know how very full of mistakes they are. I have
put down on a piece of paper the words which were badly
spelt in the last note, and I want you to put the right
spelling by the side of them and send the paper back to me.
I dare say you have had as much rain as we have had. The
rain will spoil the boat procession to-night. You will have
heard that Foss is doing well at Cricket as in other things.
I expect the Precincts Eleven will be quite strong this year.
Do you know that Brooke and Mr. C. P. and the others
have sent me a tricycle ? I have been out two rides, but I
shall not be able to go out to-day, for it is too wet.
Do all things you have to do as well as you can play and
work. Your affectionate father, B. F. WESTCOTT.
CHAPTER VII
DR. WESTCOTT AT PETERBOROUGH A MINSTER
MEMORY
HAVING treated of the events of my father s life at Peter
borough in somewhat severe chronological sequence, I
have reserved for a separate chapter a general view of
his work and influence there, kindly contributed by
Precentor Phillips. Dr. Phillips has resisted the tempta
tion to say anything about my father s home life, in
dicating in veiled language that he leaves that topic to
me. I have already endeavoured to show how active
an interest he would take in our boyish games, but
the mention of that " long dark study in the old home
down the lane " bids me say that, though on occasion
my father proved himself a most delightful playfellow,
in the ordinary way he occurred to us as a monument
of industry and, in all sincerity I say it, a pattern of
holiness. It was his goodness and his marvellous power
of work that most impressed us. When we came down
to Prayers in the morning, we would find him writing
away with a pile of finished letters before him, and
when we went to bed he was working still. He would
invite " volunteers " for an hour s work with him in his
study in the morning, and during that hour we had
the benefit of his tuition, though we did not always
35o
CHAP, vii A MINSTER MEMORY 351
appreciate the attention, and would on no account be
detained beyond the promised hour. Only on one
occasion have I seen him angry, and I mention the
circumstance now, because I feel convinced that his
lack of disciplinary power, which has been noted in the
matter of his Harrow work, was due to excess rather
than to defect of moral force. Conscious of his power,
he was, I believe, afraid to let himself go, and so
habitually exercised a severe self-restraint. It was in
the early Peterborough days, as he and I were starting
out for a walk, that, in passing through the passage,
which was then being tiled, he remarked to the man at
work that he was not laying the tiles straight. The
man contradicted him, and then my father said some
thing which seemed to annihilate the culprit. I was
astonished at my father losing his temper, but more
astonished still at the effect of his wrath : the man
trembled and turned pale, and I thought he would be
falling down dead. 1
The tricycle incident 2 illustrates his extreme 4 dis
inclination to spend any money on himself, but I must
confess that in these days, in the matter of clothing, he
carried this principle too far. He would insist on
pronouncing threadbare and green coats, condemned
by the universal voice of the family, as " excellent."
Dr. Phillips writes :
Dr. Westcott s residence in Peterborough began and ended
always in the Cambridge long vacation, when he was released
from his duties in the Divinity School. At this time of year
1 About this time my brother Brooke, who was reading for a history
-prize at Cheltenham, imparted to me, amongst other fruits of his research,
that Edward I. once killed a man by looking at him. Of course, as in
fraternal duty bound, I scoffed at the idea, and suggested that the king
brandished his sword in the poor man s face ; but I believe it now.
2 Seep. 321.
352 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
those who might best have appreciated his stay in the
Minster precincts were usually seeking an atmosphere more
exhilarating than the calm of an old cathedral close which
borders on the fen. And yet the Minster precincts have a
charm of their own a charm which Hawthorne, in his
English Note-Book^ has so pleasantly pictured that it may
here be quoted :
Of all the lovely closes that I have beheld, that of Peter
borough Cathedral is to me the most delightful ; so quiet it is, so
solemnly and nobly cheerful, so verdant, so sweetly shadowed,
and so presided over by the stately Minster, and surrounded by
ancient and comely habitations of Christian men.
The most enchanting place, the most enviable as a residence
in all the world, seemed to me that of the Bishop s secretary,
standing in the rear of the Cathedral, and bordering on the
churchyard; so that you pass through hallowed precincts in order
to come at it, and find it a paradise the holier and sweeter
for the dead who lie so near.
We looked through the gateway into the lawn, which hardly
seemed to belong to this world, so bright and soft the sunshine
was, so fresh the grass, so lovely the trees, so trained and refined
and mellowed down was the whole nature of the spot, and so
shut in and guarded from all intrusion. It is vain to write more
about it ; nowhere but in England can there be such a spot, nor
anywhere but in the close of Peterborough Cathedral.
Those who knew Dr. Westcott could hardly wonder if,
while others were wandering far and wide in search of new
scenery, he should be content to return each year to Peter
borough and spend the long vacation in a paradise such as
Hawthorne has pictured.
The fens around, too, even apart from their historical
associations as the battle-ground of England, have, as
Kingsley says, " a beauty as of the sea, of boundless expanse
and freedom " a beauty which Dr. Westcott was no less
ready to appreciate, for his was indeed the seeing eye,
discerning always
The beauty and the wonder and the power,
The shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades,
Changes, surprises.
vir A MINSTER MEMORY 353
Above all, there was the grand old Minster itself, of which
he could never tire. Here might he "shake hands across
the centuries " with spiritual ancestors. For, as he writes :
It is by their buildings and by their sculpture that the men ol
the middle ages hold converse with us now. They wrote on
parchment in a foreign language, but they wrote in a universal
language on stone, as men cannot write now. When men built
out of the fulness of their hearts, they put their deepest thoughts
into their buildings. Sometimes they expressed things just and
lovely, sometimes things false and hateful. But with whatever
message, they do still speak to us for encouragement and for
warning. The great churches are the sermons of the middle
ages, and we shall do well to study them.
" Sermons in stones and good in everything " indeed Dr.
Westcott always looked for, nor ever lived there one more
convinced of the truth which our great poet teaches. Besides
his unfailing attendance at the Cathedral services, he would
invariably spend some portion of each day within the walls
of the old Minster, in quiet thought. His son, Canon
Westcott, thus alludes to his father s custom :
Ofttimes (I well remember) he would go in the quiet of evening,
when all was dark and still, and taking his great key with him,
make his way into the Church and sit there all alone. Then the
window in the retroquire, which troubled him so greatly in
the brightness of the daytime, was quite invisible and troubled
him no more.
And he pondered who knows what ? and gained what access
of strength no man can tell, in those moments of solemn silence,
alone with the great All-Father.
At another time, though the spare moments he allowed
himself were few, it was a delight to him to sketch with his
reed pen bits of the monastic buildings ; or to drink in the
beauty of the world-famed West Front in the rich light of a
fen sunset.
In the three grand arches he saw always, as he says, "a
type of the wide welcome with which the Church embraces
all who come to her " ; and indeed every feature of the old
VOL. I 2 A
354 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Norman pile, in one way or another, to him expressed some
noble thought.
He was greatly interested even in less picturesque relics
of the old monastic life.
In the parvise, built a century later than the arches of
the West Front, and now used as a library, is preserved the
old chronicle Swapham, of no small value in the eyes of an
antiquarian, but containing little perhaps that people generally
would care to read. And yet Dr. Westcott would take great
pleasure in looking through its dry details of monastic life.
He thus speaks of it :
Like other monastic annals, it forms a chequered, fragmentary
chronicle, sometimes vivid, in the details of little jealousies and
strifes ; sometimes pathetic, in the portraiture of a chief truly loved
and lost. Every page tells the same story. A life of sympathy,
of tenderness, of discipline, of justice is there seen to take shape
slowly. Within the monastery the noble and the bondsman were
equal. No one was allowed to call anything his own but his
sins.
For him who ruled and for him who served there was an
absolute law to prefer his brother s good to his own. Disciplined
on these principles, each Benedictine society became, as it were,
a little garrison, holding a citadel of peace in the midst of a
turbulent people.
He then, in his sermon, goes on to remind us all of the vast
debt we owe to the monks of old, of whom men are apt to
speak disparagingly in these later days :
We owe to them nearly all that remains of the literature of
Rome. We owe to them our English Christianity. We owe to
them our greatest churches and cathedrals. We owe to them
no small share of our national liberties.
Nor would he have us forget the true cause of the decline
of the monasteries :
They may have fallen from their high place, when the end was
gained towards which they were called to toil. The conditions
of a new world may have offered no scope for their healthy
action. But their corruption came not because they clung to
vii A MINSTER MEMORY 355
their principle, but because they abandoned it ; and no later
failure can obliterate the debt which is due to their early
heroism and love.
Thus would he recall to us, living on the spot, the noble
efforts of our spiritual ancestors, leaving us "a precious
inheritance to be guarded and improved." Again and again
did he urge us to think on "our unknown benefactors on
that innumerable host of toilers through the ages who have
enriched the lives of all of us with the materials and the
instruments of effective action ; who have fashioned through
sad and weary conflicts the happy conditions under which we
fulfil our parts ; who have enshrined in definite forms what they
saw of the true and the beautiful for our guidance and solace."
And then he would pause to ask us how far we, in our
turn, are preparing for our unknown heirs such blessings as
we have reaped from the toil and struggle of our fathers.
Here, for instance, in an unpublished sermon, is a noble
appeal to us to make a grateful use of the blessings we have
received, by leaving behind us something that may help
those who come after us :
We, too, are ancestors ; and we are constrained to ask what is
the inheritance which we are preparing for future generations ?
For what will our descendants bless us ? Will they be able to
say, when they look at the work which we have wrought in our
brief time of toil, at the words which we have coined or brought
into currency, at the spirit which we have cherished : " They
gave us of their best their best in execution and their best in
thought ; they embodied splendid truths in simple forms and
made them accessible to all ; they kept down the hasty and
tumultuous passions which an age of change is too apt to
engender : thus they have made sacrifice easier for us ; they have
made wisdom more prevailing ; they have made holiness more
supreme ; and for all this, and for the innumerable pains of which
we know not, we bless their memory."
And finally, in answer to the question, he sets before us a
terrible possibility for our warning :
Or will the voice of blessing be silent ? Will they say, as
they look on what we have done : " That crumbling heap, that
356 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
desolate iron furnace, tells of work performed only for the
moment, which has cumbered the earth with ruins ; those coarse
and mean phrases which have corrupted our language, tell of
men who had no reverence and no dignity ; that class
antagonism which torments us, tells of the selfishness of our
fathers, who, when there was yet time, failed to bind man to
man as fellow-labourers in the cause of God."
For we must remember, there is a harvest of sorrow and
desolation, a harvest of the whirlwind and the storm, such as has
been once and again sown and reaped in the world s history
children helplessly gathering the fruits of their parents sins.
And they have not read the prophets well who persuade them
selves that they can do their work for God without looking to
the future which they are preparing for the earth.
Enough has been quoted to show how earnest and
untiring was Dr. Westcott in urging those around him to
appreciate the labours of their spiritual ancestors. It would,
however, be a mistake to suppose, although towards our fore
fathers he was indeed " chivalry incarnate," that he intended
to encourage the revival of a form of spiritual life which be
longs to the past. On the contrary, he says :
We must use our examples, not as copies but as stimulants
to exertion. . . . We want the spirit, but not the form of the
past.
The teacher of to-day must be ready to bring out of his
treasury things new as well as old : he must never be weary of
translating into the current idiom the thought which his ancestors
have mastered, and never backward to welcome the first voices of
later wisdom.
And he goes on to say :
There may be times when hermit isolation becomes a duty,
as it may be a duty to cut off the right hand or to pluck out the
right eye, but it exhibits a mutilation, not an ideal of life. . . .
The work of the study must seldom, if ever, be sundered from
the work of the world.
Dr. Westcott s estimate of family life was very high. It
was a favourite thought with him that the first converts in
Europe were families. " Lydia and her household," "the
vii A MINSTER MEMORY 357
jailor and all his." He constantly dwelt on the gain to all
from coming in contact with the fresh minds of children.
Those who visited him in his study at the Divinity School at
Cambridge will recall how, among pictures of divines famed
for learning and piety, there hung the baby face and baby
figure of Millais " Cherry Ripe."
It would be pleasant indeed to follow him into that " long
dark study in the old home down the lane," and note his
ways with his own children, but this will be dwelt upon by
another with more right and ability to speak upon the
subject.
It will be more suitable here perhaps to say a few words
on Dr. Westcott as Canon in Residence at the Cathedral.
In summer time Peterborough is rather like the land where
tis always afternoon, and not a few of its inhabitants are
inclined then to ask, "Why should life all labour be ?"
So far the coming of Dr. Westcott might seem ill-timed ;
and yet he was welcomed always as a source of fresh life by
the Cathedral staff. The precentor was stimulated in choos
ing music for the services. The organist knew that every
improvement in rendering it would at once be noted. The
lay clerks and choristers felt certain of his lively interest in
the singing ; while each and all were assured that every effort
would be appreciated, and every gift, great or small, gladly
recognised, by one who had always a keen eye for the merits
of those around him. There would be, perhaps, a little
murmuring here and there among the older members of the
Choir at improvements suggested; as, for instance, in the
chanting of the Psalms. Indeed, when the now famous
Paragraph Psalter was first introduced, a highly conservative
lay clerk was somewhat indignant at the interference of a
Canon in the Cathedral music.
Once only could the veteran remember, and that in a
far-off past, a member of the Chapter venturing to propose
any alteration in the rendering of the Psalms, and that was a
.suggestion to shorten the service by " substituting single for
double chants."
Moreover, in the good old times, when conviviality invari
ably accompanied the practice of the music, the attendance
358 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
of a Canon was a thing not to be thought of ; and when Dr.
Westcott was present, and suggested the use of a triple chant
in the Psalm, the senior member of the Choir complained of
the introduction of "a kind of three-cornered thing" into
the Cathedral music.
In a short time, however, all became reconciled to the
change, and it was fully recognised as a manifest improve
ment. Thus the Paragraph Psalter came to be appreciated
not only in Peterborough itself, but also by visitors to the
Cathedral. To explain the object of this change in the
chanting it may be well to quote from the preface :
It is evident, upon the least reflection, that no one uniform
method of chanting can be applicable to the whole Psalter.
Sometimes the verses are separately complete ; sometimes they
are arranged in couplets, sometimes in triplets ; sometimes they
are grouped in unequal but corresponding masses. In most
cases the verses consist of two members, but not unfrequently
they consist of three or four. If, therefore, the Psalms are
sung antiphonally on one method in single verses, or in pairs
of verses, the sense must constantly be sacrificed ; and the music,
instead of illuminating the thought, will fatally obscure it.
Thus, for example, the second Psalm consists of four triplets,
which offer remarkable internal correspondence. The teaching
of the Psalm is wholly destroyed if the separate unity of these
four stanzas is not clearly marked in chanting.
I have, therefore, striven, after long and repeated study, to mark
the main divisions of the Psalms, and by very brief marginal
notes to characterise them.
In our Cathedrals and great Churches the Psalms are the
centre of the service. They furnish splendid opportuuities for
the consecration of the highest gifts of musical genius and
musical skill ; and no nobler task can be given to the religious
artist than to interpret them in a universal language.
Another monument of Dr. Westcott s tenure of the
office of Canon Residentiary at Peterborough is the Cathedral
Voluntary Choir, which was formed to supplement, and
occasionally combine with, the regular Cathedral Choir. To
viz A MINSTER MEMORY 359
this innovation there was at first some opposition, opponents
pleading that the Cathedral s influence would suffer from the
introduction of an incongruous element. The Canon, how
ever, was not deterred from carrying out what he was
persuaded would make the Cathedral more in touch with
the city.
The ideal leader of the day has been defined as " a
mystic who can be practical," and surely Dr. Westcott
most completely represented this ideal, for, while careful to
preserve all that was worth preserving, and eager to restore
what the old Minster may have suffered from the ravages of
time, or to clear away the disfigurements of our more im
mediate forefathers, in whose days the history of Cathedrals
has been truly described as " a satirical record of neglect
and decay," he was by no means content with merely
preserving or restoring what our ancestors have bequeathed
to us, for, as he writes, " that which is stationary is dead."
Thus, while "guarding tenderly the old," he was keen to
discover means for developing any latent capacity for use
fulness in Cathedral life, although in such a sphere it is
difficult indeed for one official to move without interfering
with the rights of others.
Nothing daunted by impediments, Dr. Westcott set to
work, and by his energy and tact accomplished very success
fully the task he had undertaken. The Secretary of the
Voluntary Choir writes : " He visited the shops in the city
and invited men to join. The Choir used to meet for
practice in the hall of his house, and soon numbered fifty
members, besides the boys that joined." This beginning
was made some thirty years ago, and since that time the
special evening service has continued to be highly appreciated
by a large congregation every Sunday evening.
Dr. Westcott s efforts were by no means confined to
improving and developing all that he found possible in the
Cathedral itself. He was ever ready and anxious to help
Jforward every form of good work attempted in the city. In
the Choral Society, which sprung indirectly from the
Voluntary Cathedral Choir, he took great interest, especially
as the conductor was the precentor of the Cathedral. In
360 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
addressing the society, he takes pain to assure them that in
having a clergyman as their leader they are adopting what is,
to his mind, a principle of the first importance, for they are
thus recognising that "the guidance and study of art, and
especially of music, may fairly be committed to those to
whom the highest spiritual education is entrusted."
This indeed is but one illustration of a view which he
was always endeavouring to set forth as to the office of a
clergyman, who, as he says, " should cherish the widest
sympathies, the most varied interests. . . . Our greatest
privilege is not to suppress what belongs to sense, but to
see all transfigured ; not to regard time as a tedious
parenthesis, but as the veil of eternity, half- hiding, half-
revealing what is for ever not to divert the interest of
men from that which they have to do, but to invest every
fragment of work with a potential divinity. . . . The mean
ing of the phrase spiritual power has been unduly narrowed
in these later times."
It must not, however, be imagined that Dr. Westcott, in
dealing with candidates for Holy Orders, allowed them to
think that he assigned more than a secondary place to any
other interest. Some words of his in a letter on this subject
are too important to be omitted. He writes to a friend inter
ested in one who was contemplating being ordained, thus :
I had a conversation with Mr. yesterday evening. I
could not make out that he had any distinct personal inclination
towards Holy Orders apart from filial duty. On the other hand,
he showed passionate devotion to music. A new expression
came over his countenance when he spoke of it.
I endeavoured to put two lines of thought before him. I tried
to show, what I feel deeply, that the gift of music can be conse
crated to the service of Holy Orders if it is most definitely
secondary and subservient, just as a gift of teaching or of litera
ture. And, again, I said what I think is no less true, that now,
when music makes and indicates the highest claims, there is scope
for it as a profession for noble Christian service. I asked him,
therefore, to think over the matter and speak to me again.
Nor did Dr. Westcott s love of music prevent his warning
young people that what he so highly valued as emphatically
vii A MINSTER MEMORY 361
" the social art " had power to enervate as well as to
soothe.
In speaking of the Drama he is more reticent. Thus he
writes in a letter to a friend :
Of the stage I have never been able to make a clear theory.
No problem seems to me more beset with difficulties. These
ought to stir some teacher to effort. But from early youth I
always felt that to me this question would be one to be quickly
set aside.
His friend and predecessor in the see of Durham, Dr.
Lightfoot, in a celebrated sermon on the Drama, laments its
having fallen from its high estate, causing the clergy to hold
aloof from its representations ; and he urges his hearers not
only to reprove what is evil, but to promote whatever is
high and pure and lovely, " remembering that the emotions
acted on by the Drama are from God and of God."
So far Dr. Westcott s wish was fulfilled in the subject s
being taken up by one well qualified to judge. No one can
doubt, however, that had the question been brought before
him he would himself, as indeed he had said, have felt bound
to go thoroughly into it. But the occasion never occurred,
and so we are, alas ! poorer for the lack of his opinion.
Such reticence, indeed, was characteristic of Dr. Westcott.
This question of the Drama is only one of many instances
that might be referred to, where he is silent simply because
there seemed to be no call upon him to speak.
And his silence is the more significant, because he strongly
insisted always upon the duty of imparting to others what has
been helpful to ourselves, as a few sentences from his sermons
will at once prove :
It is treason to keep to ourselves the least truth with which we
have been entrusted.
There may be a joy of private possession in other things, but
the value of spiritual truth the value of truth to the possessor
is increased by diffusion. It grows by scattering. To hold it
back from others is to cast doubt on its reality.
In a sermon preached at the University of Cambridge he
says :
362 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
He who has ascertained some fact in history, some little detail
which may affect remotely men s health or wellbeing, cannot rest
till he has made others share his discovery. Nowhere, I think,
does the voice of humanity speak more plainly or more nobly than
in that generous and unwritten law by which the physician who
has been allowed to find some remedy for disease is held to have
found it not as a means for aggrandisement, but as a free blessing
for all.
So it is in regard to the health of the body ; and shall it be
otherwise in regard to the soul ? Faith indeed to be real must
declare itself. Its power to stay corruption must be exercised
whenever it finds entrance. Its power to illuminate must vindicate
itself by scattering darkness.
Dr. Westcott finds a noble example of this readiness to
impart a conviction of hope, with all the power and vividness
which a poet can command, in the writings of Robert Brown
ing, who cannot be accused of "an idle optimism." In a
paper read before the Browning Society at Cambridge he
says :
Browning has dared to look on the darkest and meanest forms
of action and passion, from which we commonly and rightly turn
our eyes, and he has brought back for us from this universal
survey a conviction of hope.
He has laid bare what there is in man of sordid, selfish,
impure, corrupt, brutish, and he proclaims, in spite of every
disappointment and every wound, that he still finds a spiritual
power without him, which restores assurance as to the destiny of
creation.
In Browning he finds, indeed, a kindred spirit. The poet
and the Regius Professor are one in their conviction that
" Humanity is not a splendid ruin deserted by the great king
who once dwelt within its shrine, but a living body, racked,
maimed, diseased, it may be, but stirred by noble thoughts
which cannot for ever be in vain."
Another great teacher of our time has taught us that
"despair is the only utter perdition." And so, even more
fully perhaps, to some minds, has Dr. Westcott identified
himself with "hope for the individual, hope for the race."
He loved to call the Bible "the charter of hope," and was
vii A MINSTER MEMORY 363
sure that in time to come, if not now, there would be seen in
the teaching of Holy Scripture "truths which when fully
shown are able to bind class to class and nation to nation,
and to present all created things in one supreme unity."
With this hope, triumphing over all obstacles, making
indeed " each stumbling-block a stepping-stone," Dr. Westcott
threw himself heartily into every effort which demanded self-
sacrifice for the common good. Every gift of fortune and
place and character he held to be a trust for the general
welfare. Teachers he was ever urging "not to fit their
scholars to be faultless fragments in a perfect machine, but
thoughtful, struggling citizens in a present kingdom of God."
He told schoolmasters that with them, more than with the
clergy, rests the shaping of that generation which will decide,
in a large degree, what the England of the future will be.
" They must teach their pupils that toil is not, as it used to
be to Greek ears, synonymous with wretchedness or vice " ;
and he adds, "There can be, as far as I can see, no stable
peace till it can be openly shown on a large scale that the toiler
with slender means may be rich in all that makes life worth
living, filled with the joy of devotion to the good, and the
true, and the beautiful, and the holy."
In attempting to recall impressions of Dr. Westcott when
at Peterborough, although his own disposition was to follow
out consistently what he preached to his brother clergy as to
making a love of art secondary and subservient, it is hardly
possible not to speak of his artistic gifts. His reed -pen
sketches of the monastic ruins have been seen probably only
by a few even of his friends, and not many perhaps realised
his fine appreciation of works of art. Yet those who knew
him best would soon discover the value he set on the study
of art, as a few sentences from an address to art students will
be sufficient to show :
The art which enlarges our powers, likewise invigorates and
refines. I do not know of anything more instructive than to go
with an artist to see a sunset. You see very brilliant colours, but
the artist will point out to you that there is a subtle harmony
here, the shadow of a cloud there, that shadows are not black,
but composed of variable hues, and so on, until the sunset becomes
364 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
a thing of life. This power of refined observation comes from
the study of his art. In this way we get breadth, vigour, and
delicacy by the study of art.
The time came when Dr. Westcott was invited to fill a
place in another sphere. A canonry at Westminster became
vacant, and Mr. Gladstone offered the stall to him. Not
without a pang did he leave Peterborough, and not without
genuine sorrow did clergy and friends in general bid him
farewell.
In reply to a touching address 1 from the members of the
Cathedral Voluntary Choir, he writes :
Dear Friends Let me beg you to receive my heartfelt thanks
for your address, which is now hanging before me in my study
under a drawing of the Cathedral. No testimonial could have
given me more pleasure. It is the witness that one part of the
Cathedral life which I had the happiness to see in its beginning
is full of vigorous energy and promise.
The Voluntary Choir was necessarily an object of my liveliest
interest as long as I was permitted to work at Peterborough.
During my connexion with the Cathedral from first to last, I
strove, as you know, to make it a centre of popular religious energy
and feeling, an institution to which every one in the diocese might
naturally bring his offering of service, and in which he might
be sure to find a welcome, made deeper and fuller through the
varied teaching of more than twelve hundred years, which is the
inheritance of its representatives. There are, indeed, few days in my
life which I recall with greater pleasure than those in which I was
allowed from time to time to meet in the Cathedral great gatherings
of volunteers, of railway officials, of friendly societies, of Sunday
School teachers, of church workers, and the like ; and no words
or acts of sympathy have ever been a greater encouragement to
me than those of my fellow-labourers on these occasions.
For such sympathy is not so much personal as corporate. It
is the expression of that unselfish devotion to a common end by
which societies live and grow.
I can then, to judge from my own experience, in acknowledg
ing your kindness, wish nothing better for you than that you
1 The Peterborough Voluntary Choir, I would add, presented my father
with another address, followed by two pages of signatures, on his appoint
ment to Durham. A. W.
vii A MINSTER MEMORY 365
may feel with ever-increasing power the joy of willing and united
service on behalf of a great Foundation.
This I do wish with all my heart ; and what may not fifty men
do who have already known what it is to minister to God ?
Of Dr. Westcott s new sphere as Canon of Westminster
another will speak. With his farewell to Peterborough this
record must end. In a letter received from him at the time
of his departure he says :
Westminster seems like a dream to me, yet the conversation
with Mr. Gladstone was most real and impressive, and I suppose,
if all be well, the work will come. If I had ever dared to form a
wish, I think that it would have been that I might have such a
place. The Abbey is the epitome of all that is greatest in the
fulness of English life.
When, at the request of his University, Dr. Westcott sat for
his portrait, the artist found less difficulty in painting his
features than in shaping his peculiarly sensitive fingers. And
thus, too, for the writer it is easier, by quotation from his
works, to convey an idea of his spiritual and intellectual power
than to give an impression of the fine tact which was equally
characteristic of Dr. Westcott.
Let it suffice, then, to add only that we who knew and
valued the late Bishop of Durham, when Canon of Peter
borough, still love to trace, in what have since grown into
standard theological works, the first thoughts to which with
reverence we listened in the Morning Chapel of the old
Minster; and that, above all other recollections of Cathedral
life, there must ever stand out luminously clear in our remem
brance the form and features of one whose very presence
seemed proof of immortality. Nor is it possible for us ever
to read the words of the evangelist St. John, on which he
would comment with almost breathless veneration, without
once more picturing Dr. Westcott at the lectern in the old
Norman pile,
He stood as one transfigured in a gleam
Of light divine, interpreting that Dream
Where eyes of love see Love o er all supreme.
CHAPTER VIII
CAMBRIDGE
1870-1890
IN 1870 the Regius Professorship of Divinity at Cam
bridge became vacant through the resignation of
Professor Jeremie, Dean of Lincoln. Dr. Lightfoot,
who had already devised a scheme of his own for
bringing my father to Cambridge, strongly urged him
now to be a candidate for the office. In vain my
father protested that his friend should allow himself to
be elected to " a place which was his own by right,"
and leave him the chance of succeeding to the Hulsean
Professorship. Dr. Lightfoot was obdurate, and sent
orders which my father with some misgivings obeyed.
And so it came to pass that one of his dreams was
realised. He received a telegram from Cambridge on
All Saint s Day telling him that he had been elected
by a large majority. To this he replied :
My dear Lightfoot Your telegram is, I suppose, correct,
but it all seems to me like a strange dream, and I can hardly
realise what I have ventured to do. However, in such a
case, with the prospect of such work, self must be forgotten.
I do sincerely trust that I had no selfish aim in coming
forward. I only wish that my other hopes were as strong as
366
CHAP, vni CAMBRIDGE 367
my hope for Cambridge. This last confidence is indeed that
which encourages me to believe that by your side I may be
enabled to do something for the cause of our common Faith.
Those who offer congratulations, as many kind friends
already do, hardly feel what the work to come is. I feel to
want sympathy, prayers, not congratulations. Lately I have
had to pick out two words, they are :
7TKTlv6fJLVOS
If to these we add
it seems as if the spring of strength were open.
The position which I must try to occupy I owe to you,
and you will thus help me to fill it. May God give us wisdom
and courage and patience to do His work. Ever yours
gratefully and affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
A few days later he wrote to Chancellor Benson
from Cambridge :
TRINITY COLLEGE, jth November 1870.
My dear Benson To read your letter in Lightfoot s
rooms made its words doubly moving. It is a great joy to me
that my dearest friends all feel the solemnity of the charge
given to me as I feel it. At present the sense of depression
is almost overwhelming. It is so hard not to think of self.
However, the charge is given and only in one way can it be
fulfilled. Lightfoot thinks that I should be able to help him,
and my faith in Cambridge remains unshaken. All else
seems dark, but that is light enough for the next step.
Surely the battle is for us, if only we believe it : TTWS OVK
t^ere TTib-Ttv. In a few minutes I go with Lightfoot to West
minster. More will come of these meetings, I think, than
simply a revised version. Ever yours gratefully and affec
tionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To Professor F. D. Maurice he wrote :
It is quite impossible for me to thank you in words for
your letter. By humbling me, in the Christian sense of the
368 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
word, it gives me new strength. If an unbounded faith in
the reality of the spiritual work which Cambridge can do and
an intense love for Cambridge can give any power, that power
I think I can claim. For the rest I know my weakness too
well and the extreme kindness of many friends makes me
know it even better than before to look within for anything.
It has often seemed to me that there is a want of concert in
noblest effort at Cambridge. If the men who wish to work
together would have the courage to appear as a-vvaOXovvres,
I think that great blessings would follow. Your prayers for
my work at its beginning will, I am sure, follow it, if I am
allowed to carry it on. No one can know as I do how much
I need them.
To Mr. Dairy mple he wrote :
PETERBOROUGH, i*]th December 1870.
I hardly know when I shall be able to tell all my friends
how deeply I feel their kindness and sympathy. My new
work is too grave and solemn to admit of congratulations,
but those who wish me well and know what the charge is
will give me something far better. Next term I hope to
reside in College. This seems to be the only possible
arrangement, and at the beginning it may be well to be
free from society. I do certainly feel that I can give my
whole heart to the work : that is something to encourage
me. . . .
The following letter to his wife tells of the com
mencement of his Cambridge work :
CAMBRIDGE, >]th February 1871.
Well the first lecture is over, and now that a beginning
is made the way will be clearer. I had a very pleasant
audience and an attentive one. Prof. Selwyn came over
from Ely to be present. It was very kind of him. I hope
that I was intelligible, and henceforth I shall not try the
powers of my hearers so much. It is a great thing to have
V11I
CAMBRIDGE 369
been allowed to begin the work. May some good come from
it. The time seems to be very short, and it is hard to keep
one s own faith really alive.
One of the new Professor s first endeavours was to
secure a harmony of Divinity lectures ; he even hoped
that Professor Maurice might see his way to visibly
co-operate with the Divinity Professors, but in this he
was disappointed. He wrote :
PETERBOROUGH, y>th September 1871.
My dear Professor Maurice The Theological Professors
propose to issue a joint programme of their lectures at the
beginning of the term, with a view to giving men a general
idea of the public help which they may expect to receive in
this part of their work. We are anxious to make our list as
complete as possible, and the thought has occurred to us
that you may have selected for your subject some topic of
Christian Ethics which would fall within the scope of the
plan. If it be so we trust that you will allow us to include
this course of yours in our list. Without some such applica
tion of theology to life, our scheme will be very imperfect,
and it will be an inestimable gain to the students preparing
for Holy Orders if they can from the first be taught to feel
that Social Morality is one side of the doctrine of the Church.
It may, of course, happen that the subjects which you pro
pose to teach in the next year are special and technical and
that you cannot render us the service for which I venture to
ask ; but I am sure that you will sympathise so far with the
wish to give breadth to our Divinity course as to pardon me
for preferring the request which may perhaps find fulfilment
at some later time if not now. Believe me to be, my dear
Professor Maurice, yours very sincerely and gratefully,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
From the very first, too, he laboured to secure a real
value for the University s divinity degrees. He was
not afraid to disappoint entirely some who sought the
VOL. I 2 B
370 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
D.D. degree, and submitted to some reproach on this
account. The following letter to Archdeacon Farrar,
a very old friend and sufficiently renowned theologian,
shows how scrupulous he was in this matter :
WESTMINSTER, 2nd February 1871.
My dear Farrar Your note has followed me to the
Revision sitting. The LXX is, I fear, quite an unworked
field so far as the books of the Hebrew Canon are concerned.
It can, I think, only be used profitably with the Hebrew text,
and the problems then opened are intensely interesting, but
nearly all new. . . . The Apokrypha forms an excellent
subject, and the Kurz. Exeg. Handb. by Grimm and
Fritzsche is excellent. You could not take anything better
than i Mace, and Wisdom.
I do not know whether you can take a D.D. at once
without going through the preliminary stage. Luard is the
great authority on this matter. However, the exercises are
the same for B.D. and D.D., a public sermon, which I am
allowed to consider already preached in the Hulsean lectures,
and a Latin thesis. The latter I wish to raise to real worth.
If you can suggest some subject which you wish to treat, I
shall be delighted to assign it to you ; and I am most anxious
that the work should be of permanent value. We have lost
incredibly by treating these exercises as a matter of form.
I write in haste in a moment of leisure. May you have
every blessing in your coming work. Ever yours most
sincerely, B. F. WESTCOTT.
Professor V. H. Stanton, who knew my father
throughout his twenty years tenure of the Regius Pro
fessorship, has kindly sent the following recollections :
" It seems natural to speak of him first as he
appeared to myself and to contemporaries of my own,
from the point of view which we occupied when he
entered upon his work here. Several of my friends
were looking forward, as I was, to becoming candidates
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 371
for Holy Orders, while others besides these took a
genuine interest in Theological studies. We had
some general notion before he came of his attainments,
and knew that he had written important books, though
I do not remember that we had any of us read even
one of them, unless it were The Gospel of the Resurrec
tion. We soon began to realise to some extent what
additional strength he had brought to the teaching
body in Cambridge, and he became an object of the
same kind of affectionate reverence which we ourselves
and other generations of young men before us had for
some time felt for Dr. Lightfoot. Their mental char
acteristics were in some respects very different ; but
the friendship between them was known to be of
such long standing and so close, and their main prin
ciples and aims were so plainly identical, that the
influence of each was only strengthened by that of the
other. We liked to watch them together, and this we
had many opportunities of doing, especially if we were
Trinity men. Dr. Lightfoot s home was in the College ;
your father, also, though he had his house in Scrope
Terrace, had rooms in Neville s Court (I. 3, second
floor, middle of the north side), where he did much of
his work, from the Lent term of 1871 to the summer
of 1879, after which he made the private room of the
Regius Professor at the Divinity School his workshop.
Thus during those early years he passed a large por
tion of his days in our very midst ; and the two friends,
who had planned their life s work together, and who
were now reunited as colleagues in the professoriate,
mjght constantly be seen walking side by side in our
courts as they left chapel or hall, and at other times.
They were of the small and faithful remnant who still
dined at the fellows table at 4.30 P.M. In passing it
372 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
may be said that I think it is to be regretted that
they did not dine at the later hour, when they would
have met the greater number of the fellows. In the
case of Dr. Lightfoot it did not matter much, owing to
his long residence in College and past participation in
College work ; but in Dr. Westcott s case it would have
been a gain if he and the society generally could have
become more fully acquainted through ordinary social
intercourse.
" For the first few years the subjects of his longer
courses delivered in the Arts School, where the pro
fessor occupied the cumbrous pulpit which had been
the throne of the moderator at the keeping of Acts
were taken from the earlier centuries of the History of
the Church. It should be remembered that there was
then no Dixie professor, and that far less instruction
in Divinity subjects was provided in the Colleges than
at present. He led us back to the original documents,
and dwelt with evident enthusiasm upon signal mani
festations of Christian life, and showed, too, how the
Church s Creed had been shaped in true harmony with
the Scriptural Revelation, in spite of all the human
passions which had been displayed in the conflicts
through which the result had been won. The numbers
attending his lectures were in those days not large,
and he occasionally set questions, which he required
those at least who desired certificates of attendance to
answer, so as in some degree to satisfy him. Later he
demanded, only as a proof of diligence, that men should
show him their notes. It has now, I may observe, for
some years been the practice of all the Cambridge
Divinity professors to set a paper on the subject of their
lectures at the conclusion of each course, which must
be passed in order that a certificate may be obtained.
vni CAMBRIDGE 373
" Many, however, will look back with most gratitude
to his Monday evening lectures on the Gospel of St.
John, and afterwards on St. John s Epistles, which were
for a long time given in his own rooms, though eventu
ally he had to remove to a lecture-room. Here those
students came who were most anxious to learn, includ
ing some who were not making Theology a principal
subject of study, and they acquired a new sense of the
depths of truth contained in the spiritual Gospel.
"In looking over old lists of the subjects of Pro
fessors lectures, I had noticed that from 1874 to 1879,
in place of a portion of Church History, * the Study of
Christian Doctrine, or some similar title commonly
appears opposite the Regius Professor s name ; while
in and after the latter year he usually took a book, or
selected passages, of the New Testament as the sub
ject of his course for certificates, and Christian Doctrine
in his weekly class. The reason for the last change is
probably to be found in the removal to Durham of Dr.
Lightfoot, who had almost invariably lectured on the
New Testament."
My father s earliest lectures, it has been remarked,
were on Church History, being read from a fully
written manuscript, which still survives. It had been
one of his dreams to accomplish a work on Christian
Doctrine, to which the external history of the Church
would have been contributory. For years his study
was adorned with a long row of Stone s boxes, each of
which was labelled C, D, and contained part of what
we children understood was to be the great work of his
life. Some of his Monday evening lectures in the
library of the Divinity School were on this subject,
and parts of them have been published in T/ie Gospel
374 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
of Life. In a note to the preface of that book he
says :
It was my intention to have added notes on the Modes
and Epochs of Revelation, on the characteristics of Judaism,
on the Sacred books of prae-Christian religions, and on the
Historical Development of Christian Doctrine, for which I
collected materials ; but it is hardly likely now that I shall be
able to bring the materials into a proper shape.
That is all he says when compelled to abandon
hope of completing his magnum opus.
The attendance at his lectures grew steadily for
years, receiving a great accession when Professor Light-
foot was taken to Durham, until it averaged about three
hundred. Before commencing his lectures the Pro
fessor would repeat a collect, and few will be able to
forget the earnestness of his prayer on those occasions.
Then before entering upon his exposition of a verse or
two of St. John, or of the Epistle to the Hebrews, he
would say a few words on passages selected for re-
translation into Greek, and so convey, even to the most
careless, some idea of the power of the original.
To earnest students his less largely attended
lectures were, I think, more enjoyable. I can re
member how, sometimes trusting to a friend who ex
celled at taking notes, I could not resist the tempta
tion to cease writing and give myself over to the
delight of simple listening. The effect of the words as
one can read them now is incomparably less than their
effect as uttered. What that effect on some occasions
was, another 1 has described :
As in closing words of almost whispering earnestness,
tense with spiritual emotion and vibrating with prophetic
hope, he tried to sum up the collective message of all the
1 The Rev. G. H. Kendall.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 375
fragmentary efforts, by which TroA/u/xepws /ecu 7roA,irr/>o7r<os " in
many parts and many modes " men had groped their way
towards self-realisation and truth, I remember how every pen
dropped, and breath was hushed, and a pin-fall would have
sounded, as we listened spell -bound to a peroration that
passed into a Confession and a prayer.
Professor Stanton resumes :
" I must now turn to Dr. Westcott s attitude towards,
and part in, matters of University policy, legislation,
and administration. He commenced his work as pro
fessor at one of the chief epochs in the history of the
relations of the University to the Church of England.
In the Parliamentary session of 1871, a bill was
passed into law whereby religious tests, already
abolished in regard to all degrees except those in
Divinity, ceased to be imposed as a condition of ad
mission to a fellowship. Colleges were at the same
time required to make provision for the religious
instruction of members of the Established Church, and
for the maintenance of worship in their chapels as
before, in accordance with its principles and forms ;
but there ceased to be any guarantee that the
governing bodies, or the teaching staff in general,
would consist of Churchmen. I do not know how
Dr. Westcott regarded this measure before it was
passed, though I imagine that he acknowledged its
necessity. Certainly, however, he faced the new state
of things with courage and hopefulness. Of this there
could not be better evidence than that afforded by the
little volume entitled The Religious Office of the Uni
versities^- containing three sermons preached before
1 To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
PETERBOROUGH, au 1 / December 1872.
I have been told that I must publish two sermons which I preached
before the University at the beginning of this month. They were on some
376 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the University in the Advent of 1872, two papers
read at Church Congresses, and one at an Ely Diocesan
Conference. But this was also a time of much activity
in the University itself, and not least so in regard to
the introduction of new regulations affecting Theological
studies. In 1869 the Theological Board reported that,
in consequence of the recent institution of a Pass
Examination in Theology for the B.A. degree, the
position of the Theological Examination, commonly
called the Voluntary, which Cambridge candidates for
Holy Orders were required by the Bishops to pass, had
been materially affected ; and a Syndicate was ap
pointed to consider the whole question of the Theo
logical examinations of the University, and the regula
tions affecting them. I find that Dr. Westcottwas a mem
ber of the former body, probably as an examiner, when
it made the above-mentioned report ; and that, although
not a member of the Syndicate at its commencement,
he was added to it after he was elected Regius Pro
fessor, some little time before it made its first report.
It first dealt with Divinity degrees, and framed the
regulations which are still in force. Dr. Westcott, as
Regius Professor, had the principal share in carrying
them into effect, and in gradually raising the standard
of attainment insisted on. The same Syndicate pre
pared the scheme for the Theological Tripos Examina
tion, the chief features of which still remain unaltered.
The first was held in 1874."
The circumstances, as described above by Professor
points of the relation of the University to religious life at home and
abroad. To publish single sermons is a luxury which I can hardly indulge
in ; but perhaps these two sermons, with the three papers at Nottingham,
Cambridge, and Leeds, which all converge on the same points, might
make a tiny volume which would pay its cost. What do you think ? I
will send you the sermons if you like. The papers are in the Reports of
the Congresses, and you may have seen them.
vin CAMBRIDGE 377
Stanton, combined, to quote my father s own words,
" to suggest the present time as especially opportune
for the establishment of a general Theological Exam
ination, which shall be conducted by the Divinity
Professors and members of the Theological Faculty
in co-operation with the Bishops."
The establishment of the Preliminary Examination
of candidates for Holy Orders thus foreshadowed was
a matter which cost the Regius Professor much labour
and anxiety. His anxious endeavour was to raise the
level of Theological attainments, and to secure, as far
as could be, a uniform standard in the various
dioceses. At the same time it was hoped that the
more solid part of the examination of candidates for
ordination would thus be removed from the few days
immediately preceding ordination, so that a more
devotional character might be given to the Ember
seasons.
As early as 1871 the scheme supported by his
Cambridge colleagues was already taking shape ; but
it was a harder task to win the countenance of the
Bishops. The following letters to Professor Lightfoot
show what efforts were being made to that end :
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
PETERBOROUGH, i$th September 1871.
I send you a rough draft of a letter to the Bishops. There
are evidently great difficulties before us, but it seems to be the
last chance of keeping the University in living contact with
the clergy.
My Cathedral paper was finished at Hunstanton, where I
stayed for a week, but a solitary holiday is a little dreary, and
so I came home again. There is the Nottingham paper still
378 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
hanging over me, and it is very hard to keep in good heart
at Peterborough. The shades of the Four Councils already
darken most things. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
PETERBOROUGH, i&th September 1871.
. . I have corrected the letter according to your sugges
tions, and when I get a proof will send it to you again, as
well as to Selwyn and Swainson, for further suggestions. There
are difficulties in the way of the Bishops, I foresee, but unless
they will promise something I do not see that we can under
take the Examination. Yet with care the Examination might
be made a very valuable instrument of training.
Last week the history of the Council of Constantinople
fairly crushed me. I had never gone into it before. Bad as
the worst debate in Convocation is, there has been something
worse. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
In the same year he wrote to Hort, urging him to
accept an Examining Chaplaincy to the Bishop of Ely,
hoping thus to secure his active assistance in forward
ing the scheme :
TRINITY COLLEGE, jth November 1871.
I fear that I cannot be quite unbiassed in giving my
opinion. The importance of the office in the present crisis
of things seems to be so great, and the possibility of salutary
influence at Cambridge so hopeful, that I cannot admit your
arguments for doubting. It seems to me to be quite evident
that some great change must be made before long in the
Examination for Holy Orders. Thus there is the greater
need of getting a firm nucleus for a central body which may
be ready to take part of the charge. If our supplementary
Cambridge Examination should be established, we shall require
the active sympathy of as many bishops as possible, and it is,
I think, through this work of preparation for Holy Orders
that we may look first for the quickening of our Faculty.
The Bishop s letter is a true reflection of him. What could
CAMBRIDGE 379
be more winning ? There is no bishop under whom I could
work with more joy and trust, and if I, then you not less.
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2ist November 1871.
One line only to wish you every blessing in what really is
a very important work. At present there is undoubtedly
much to correct and develop, but at least there is the vantage
ground for effort, and Ely probably offers more advantages
than any diocese. You will enjoy intensely your intercourse
with the Bishop. There are few men whose presence is
more beneficent.
... By incredible efforts I saved my train by about a
minute. It is a comfort to find that one can still run a
mile.
In the following year he made great progress, and
was gladdened by the receipt of a document which practi
cally started the new Examination on its successful
course. The document runs thus :
We, the undersigned, having considered carefully the
amended form of " Proposals for the Establishment of a New
Theological Examination," 1 as submitted to us by the Regius
i PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT
OF A
NEW THEOLOGICAL EXAMINATION
Various circumstances combine to suggest the present time as especially
opportune for the establishment of a general Theological Examination,
which shall be conducted by the Divinity Professors and members of the
Theological Faculty in co-operation with the Bishops.
I. Recent changes in the University point to this step.
On the one hand, the abolition of the so-called Voluntary Theological
Examination has cleared the way for a more efficient scheme, while at the
same time it has rendered some substitute desirable. After the close of
the year 1873, when the " Voluntary" Theological Examination will cease
to be held, the University will offer no means of testing the Theological
knowledge of those students who have proceeded to their degrees by any
38o LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Professor of Divinity of Cambridge, express our approval of
the same, and our willingness to take part in the scheme.
W. EBOR.
C. J. GLOUCESTER and BRISTOL.
E. H. ELY.
J. HEREFORD.
W. C. PETERBOROUGH.
ARTHUR BATH and WELLS.
HARVEY CARLISLE.
yd June 1872.
other line than by the Theological Honours Tripos or the Special Theo
logical Examination. Yet it may be presumed that a large number of
these will still continue to present themselves as candidates for Holy
Orders.
On the other hand, the fact that the Act for the abolition of Tests has
severed many of the formal bonds connecting the University with the
Church of England, renders it the more necessary that this connexion
should be maintained as far as possible practically. Through the Theo
logical Faculty, which remains untouched by recent legislation, its main
tenance is still possible ; and to this body therefore we should naturally
look to take its part in the general control of the proposed Examination.
II. At the same time, dissatisfaction has been expressed by many
of the Bislwps with the present working of the Examinations for Holy
Orders ; and it is thought that in this direction an improvement might be
effected by the proposed scheme.
In the first place, it has been felt as a serious consequence of the
existing practice, that the thoughts of Candidates are engrossed up to the
last moment with the anxieties of their Examination, so that they have
little opportunity for quiet thought at this critical time. An important
point would be gained if the Bishops Examinations could be relieved of
some of those subjects which test the intellectual qualifications of Candi
dates and a more devotional tone given to the period immediately
preceding Ordination.
Moreover, the establishment of a general Examination, comprising
Candidates for Ordination in different dioceses, would tend to raise the
level of Theological attainments among the English Clergy generally, and
to correct these inequalities of standard which arise from the absence of
common action.
III. Lastly, the scheme may be expected to act beneficially on
Theological Colleges, Representations have been made from time to time
by those interested in their working, in the hope of inducing the University
to establish an Examination for their members. They have felt the
importance of reference to some external standard, such as the proposed
Examination would afford, to stimulate and direct the studies, as well as to
test the proficiency, of their students.
By opening the Examination, under certain conditions, to students of
Theological Colleges, this end might be attained.
The Regulations for the Examination follow hereupon.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 381
Encouraged by these promises, my father sought
the aid of the Church press to make the scheme known,
but seems to have met with scant success. He wrote
to Hort :
PETERBOROUGH, ztfhjuly 1873.
I sent the papers with notes to The Guardian and to the
John Bull, but, as far as I know, neither paper has taken the
least notice of the proposed Examination. I am not in the
secrets of journalism, and can only suppose that Cambridge
is in bad odour with ecclesiastical journals. I do not see,
however, that the neglect will do harm. It will be best to
get the scheme inserted in the Reporter early in October, and
then the Cambridge " correspondent " of the papers may
think it worth while to notice it. (Did you see that the
Cambridge correspondent of The Guardian said that Mr.
Farrar was presented for his degree by the Public Orator in a
laudatory Latin speech ?) . . . My idea as to Creeds and
Prayer Book was that we should deal in the general Examina
tion with contents and history, but not with dogmatical
developments. For the common Examination of all candi
dates I should propose : i. General Scripture. 2. Doctrine.
3. Evidences. 4. Pastoral care. ... Of course what we
shall work for is the separation of the Examination, as a pass
Examination, from the Ember week.
The success of the scheme was, however, fully
assured by the support of the seven Bishops. The
Oxford Divinity Professors joined heartily in the work,
and year by year other bishops consented to accept the
Examination, until at last it won practically universal
recognition.
During the early years of the life of this Examina
tion, my father conducted all the correspondence, and
served as one of the Examiners on every occasion.
When the new work was fairly started, the Rev. E. G.
King was appointed Secretary, and the extreme pressure
382 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
removed from the long-suffering shoulders of the
Professor.
As soon as the Preliminary Examination had been
successfully launched upon its career of usefulness, the
Regius Professor devoted his energies to yet another
scheme for enabling the University to supply men duly
qualified to serve God in the Church. In 1881 he
had gathered together a committee of which he was
President, formed for the purpose of assisting graduates,
who were looking forward to ordination, to prepare for
their life s work, without sacrificing the peculiar advan
tages of residence in the University. The preparation
provided, fell under three heads : Devotional, Doctrinal,
and Practical. One feature of the Devotional prepara
tion was an additional service held, latterly at any rate,
in a side Chapel (Brassey) of King s College Chapel, at
which Devotional Addresses were given. From time to
time my father delivered these addresses. In the matter
of the Doctrinal preparation, various courses of lectures
were provided, the President himself lecturing on Heads
of Christian Doctrine. All members of the Clergy
Training School, as it was called, were required to
engage in practical work, in connexion with existing
agencies or otherwise, and generally in concert with
the vicars of parishes in Cambridge or the neighbour
hood. After working quietly and successfully for seven
years, the Committee felt justified in 1887 in putting
forth a public appeal for funds to provide stipends,
bursaries, and a house to be a centre for the work of
the School. About the same time the School adopted
a Constitution which provided that the Divinity
Professors, the Principal and Vice-Principal of the
School, and the Lecturers should form the Council.
Thus equipped with funds and a local habitation, and
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 383
adopted by the Professors, the School was established
on a secure basis for the permanent benefit of the
Church at large. 1
Professor Stanton continues : " Dr. Westcott threw
himself most cordially into the work of various religious
societies and institutions in Cambridge, especially those
which were mainly carried on by undergraduates and
young graduates, and the position accorded to him in
connexion with them was a means of influence hardly
less important than the manner in which he discharged
his strictly professorial duties. The first time that I
was in the same room with him was at a meeting of
Jesus Lane Sunday School teachers, at the end of
which he gave a short address, when he cannot have
been settled in Cambridge for more than a few weeks.
Less than a year afterwards, the University Church
Society was formed, with the object of promoting a
better understanding of one another, and fuller co
operation among young Churchmen of various shades
of opinion. He was consulted in regard to the scheme
at an early stage, and delivered an opening address at
the first regular meeting, on the motto which he gave
us ^vva6\ovvres, while Dr. Lightfoot preached at the
Society s first terminal service on the words Tldvra vp&v.
For years Dr. Westcott was frequently present at its
meetings, where he sat listening patiently to our crude
remarks.
"Then came the formation of the Missionary Brother
hood at Delhi. He had himself had the principal
share in giving this direction to the missionary zeal of
members of the University, and his own large views of
1 These buildings have since received the name of " Westcott House,"
in order "to commemorate the close connexion between Bishop Westcott
and the Clergy Training School, and to record the honour and affection
felt for him by all associated with him in his work in it."
384 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
missionary work, and of the responsibilities of the
University in regard to it, were to no small extent
impressed upon this mission, and have determined its
aims and spirit. In other ways, too, he helped the
cause of foreign missions, as (for instance) by his
speeches at meetings of the S.P.G. and C.M.S. Various
associations of greater or less permanency, having
religious or philanthropic aims, might also be men
tioned, which he encouraged by his sympathy and aid.
When, as was frequently the case, he was in the chair
at meetings either of a public or a comparatively
private character, one could observe him making brief
notes during the speeches. At the conclusion he
summed up, showing how skilfully he had analysed
them and preserved what was of most value in each,
while he lifted us into a higher level of thought and
feeling. In all his utterances he recurred continually
to those great truths which were the master-light of
all his seeing. "
My father delivered a course of lectures, on Some
Traits in the Christian Character^ at the Devotional
Services of the Church Society in 1876. These
addresses were subsequently published, under the title
Steps in the Christian Life. One of the most memor
able of his many missionary addresses was that delivered
in 1882, in the College Hall at Westminster, on The
Cambridge Mission and Higher Education in the Punjab.
I cannot altogether forego mention of the "Eranus"
Club, although it has been fully described elsewhere by
one of its original members, 1 because it originated with
my father. The following letter indicates its general
intention as sketched by its founder :
1 Professor Henry Sidgwick, in Life and Letters of Dr. Hort, ii. 184, 185.
CAMBRIDGE 385
TRINITY COLLEGE, 6th May 1872.
Dear Sir It has appeared to several resident members of
the University, who are actively engaged in different depart
ments of academic work, that it would be a great advantage
to have opportunities of meeting to consider questions of
common interest in the light of their special studies. It is
proposed, therefore, to form a small society for the purpose of
hearing and discussing essays prepared by the members. If
you are inclined to take part in it, may I ask the favour of
your attendance at a preliminary meeting to be held in my
rooms on Friday, lythMay, at 8.30 P.M. Yours faithfully,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
The " Eranus " included among its members : F. J. A.
Hort, Henry Jackson, J. B. Lightfoot, Alfred Marshall,
J. Clerk Maxwell, J. R. Seeley, Henry Sidgwick, V. H.
Stanton, G. G. Stokes, and Coutts Trotter. Any one
familiar with Cambridge, or the world of learning, will
recognise what a galaxy of talent here shines. Though
the number of members varied, it never exceeded
twelve. One of the earliest papers read by my father
before this club was on Knowledge. He valued
extremely these opportunities of open converse with
other leaders of thought on topics of supremest interest,
and, when he says in his preface to The Gospel of Life,
" the thoughts which they (sc. the chapters) contain
have been constantly tested in private discussion," I
understand him to refer, in some degree, to the discus
sions of this club.
Professor Stanton has furnished the following
amusing little incident which occurred at a meeting of
the "Eranus" held in Professor Robertson Smith s
rooms, and presents an interesting view of my father as
an educationalist. He says, " We were discussing our
VOL. I 2 C
386 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Cambridge courses of study, when Dr. Westcott with
the utmost gravity remarked : I would give a man a
degree for asking twelve good questions. Of course
he did not seriously regard this as practicable. Yet
the mock proposal meant a great deal. While he often
shrank from formulas, because truth seemed to him too
great to be contained in them, he was always ready to
map out a subject with care and precision, so as to
indicate clearly what there was to be investigated and
thought about, and he looked for a similar temper in
other genuine students."
When Dr. Lightfoot, in 1875, succeeded to the
Lady Margaret Professorship, an anxious discussion
ensued in the matter of the Hulsean chair thus vacated.
At first it was hoped that the problem which presented
itself to the three Cambridge friends might be happily
solved by Chancellor Benson s consenting to stand.
When, however, Dr. Benson finally decided that he
should devote himself wholly to his work at Lincoln,
Dr. Hort was, after full consideration of the attendant
difficulties, urged by the other two to offer himself as a
candidate. His somewhat unwilling candidature on
this occasion proved unsuccessful ; but three years later
he was elected, when the same chair again fell vacant,
owing to Professor J. J. S. Perowne s acceptance of the
Deanery of Peterborough.
The following fragments are selected from the
letters written at this crisis by my father to his inti
mate friends :
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
zqth May 1875.
Hort is naturally very anxious to know what it is right to
do about the Hulsean. Now that the Lady Margaret is
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 387
practically decided (Do you become a Johnian ?), we must
try to face the question. I hope that you may see your way.
All being well, I come up on Thursday to a Harrow meeting,
and if you are free I will come on to St. Paul s, or meet you
elsewhere to talk over the matter. I feel in the greatest
perplexity, and could of course say nothing, except that I
would take counsel with you. The question so far is simply
whether we think (our own minds not being further made up)
that it would be better for Hort to come forward or not. He
fully feels the gravity of the O.T. argument.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
Wijunc 1875.
Lightfoot tells me that he has written to you. The whole
idea seems like a delightful dream. Yet I cannot but be
glad to have spoken, even if I was selfishly inclined to forget
Lincoln in Cambridge. So far you will forgive me.
To DR. HORT
\2.thjune 1875.
I am very glad that you have written to Benson, but I
hardly think that he will stand, and it is, I fear, selfish in me
to wish him to imperil Lincoln. Yet when once I was
encouraged I could not but feel what a help he would be
to us.
In the building of the new Divinity School, towards
which Professor Selwyn had munificently contributed
over 10,000, my father took the keenest interest.
The School was opened in 1879, an d from that time
the Regius Professor occupied a room within its walls.
Here, as formerly in his rooms at Trinity, he was ready
to advise those who sought his guidance, and many are
they who look back with grateful affection to quiet
interviews in that little corner room which have left
388 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
abiding impressions on their lives. The following note
addressed to his brother Professors shows how carefully
the Regius Professor entered into the details of the
architectural work :
DIVINITY SCHOOL, $th November.
A question has arisen as to the six shields on the entrance
door of the Divinity School, which is also the entrance to the
Literary Schools. It was proposed that the four Divinity
Professorships should be represented by four shields, and that
two should be kept blank for the future. Mr. Champneys is
anxious to fill all the shields, and wishes that the two remain
ing shields should represent Literary Professorships. Generally,
this seems open to serious objection ; but the two Professor
ships of Hebrew and Greek were distinctly theological in con
ception, and perhaps it might be well to indicate this idea by
placing their bearings on our entrance.
When Professor Lightfoot was, in 1879, appointed
to the See of Durham, the general loss of Cambridge
was a very special loss to my father. From the time
when Dr. Lightfoot generously prepared the way for
his return to Cambridge, he had cordially supported
him throughout in every effort to fulfil his office. To
lose the loyal co-operation of such a worker was hard
indeed ; but my father was not one of those who
" thought their own circle greater than the world,"
and felt that his friend did right to accept the new
burden. He wrote :
My dear Lightfoot The advice from Truro does not
surprise me. On the whole, I think that it is right, though
no one can feel as I do what the decision means to us here.
But England is more than Cambridge. You may find new
ways for helping us, and I will try to regain the hope which
has almost gone. We must have faith. It is just that that
we are always wanting. We wish to carry out our own plans.
viii CAMBRIDGE 389
For your work I have no fear. You give all your past, your
self, to it ; and giving is the secret of true success.
I must be very thankful for the work which we have
been allowed to do together. It seems to have borne fruit
beyond one s utmost expectation lav p) 6 KOKKOS TOV a-irov
Trecrwf ets TTJV ytjv aTroOavy avros /zoVos /zevei, edv Se aTroOavy
iroXvv Kapirov <^yoet. . . - 1
There are many deaths and risings again. Is it not
written over all " from strength to strength " ? Ever yours,
B. F. W.
These last words, it will be remembered, were the
text of my father s sermon at Bishop Lightfoot s con
secration. In the course of that sermon he says : " I do
not fear that I shall be misunderstood if I say that
our ancient Universities supply with singular fulness
the discipline which may train the spiritual counsellor.
Nowhere else, I believe, is a generous sympathy with
every form of thought and study more natural or more
effective ; nowhere else is it equally easy to gauge the
rising tide of opinion and feeling which will prevail
after us ; nowhere else is there in equal measure that
loyal enthusiasm which brings the highest triumphs of
faith within the reach of labour. He who has striven
there towards the ideal of student and teacher will
have gained powers fitted for a larger use. He who
lived in communion with the greatest minds of all
ages will not be hasty to make his own thoughts the
measure of truth."
In May 1870 my father was invited to take part
in the Revision of the New Testament as a member
of the Company appointed by Convocation. His own
view at the time was that the text of the New Testa-
1 Except the grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by
itself alone ; but if it die, it beareth much fruit. St. John xii. 24.
390 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
ment needed to be more accurately determined before
an improved translation could be profitably under
taken. After consulting, however, with his friends, Drs.
Lightfoot and Hort, who had also been asked to assist
in the work, he felt that he ought to accept the duty,
and hoped that it might come to a successful issue.
The following two letters to the other two members of
the Cambridge " trio " show part of what he felt :
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
PETERBOROUGH, ztyh May 1870.
My dear Hort Your note came with one from Ellicott
this morning, and you have doubtless heard by the same
post. On the face of the scheme there is as much fairness
as one could hope, far more than one could have expected ;
and though I think that Convocation is not competent to
initiate such a measure, yet I feel that as "we three" are
together it would be wrong not to " make the best of it " as
Lightfoot says. Indeed, there is a very fair prospect of good
work, though neither with this body nor with any body likely
to be formed now could a complete textual revision be
possible. There is some hope that alternative readings
might find a place in the margin. But this is one of the
details on which it will be necessary for us to confer before
the first meeting.
I am obliged to write hastily, but, though I dislike the
scheme, I seem to be quite clear that we should embrace the
opportunity and do our best. Even if we fail greatly we
shall not fail from unwillingness to co-operate with others ;
and an invitation to share in such a work ought not to be
lightly cast aside. Will you write at once to me one line.
The answer ought not to be delayed beyond Tuesday.
How rapidly things move now. This scheme seems like a
dream. Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
CAMBRIDGE 391
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
PETERBOROUGH, tfhjune 1870.
My dear Lightfoot Ought we not to have a conference
before the first meeting for Revision? There are many
points on which it is important that we should be agreed.
The rules though liberal are vague, and the interpretation of
them will depend upon decided action at first. I am a
fixture, having been absent too much already, but Hort is
ready to come here on any day, and the trains are convenient.
Can you then fix some time when you also could spare a few
hours we shall hardly want more for a conference ? . . . .
There really seems hope for the N.T. at least. Ever
yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
My father suggested to the Dean of Westminster
that there should be a celebration of the Holy Com
munion before the first meeting of the New Testament
Revision Company. Dean Stanley gladly accepted
the suggestion. The following extracts from letters
written by my father to Professor Lightfoot clearly
indicate his share in this much - controverted pro
ceeding :
PETERBOROUGH, \othjunc 1870.
... I want some celebration of Holy Communion
before our first Revision meeting. I have ventured to write
to the Dean of Westminster. Could you not support me ?
We who are members of the Church of England could rightly
show and confirm our fellowship.
PETERBOROUGH, I jthjune 1870.
. . . Stanley heartily accepts the proposal of Holy Com
munion if the notice is sent to all. To this I see no objec
tion. He will celebrate, and with him all the responsibility
rests. We at least (and, I think, Scotch Presbyterians) can
have no scruple in availing ourselves of the offered service.
You think so, I hope. Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
392 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I do not suppose that my father had contemplated
that one who could not join in the Nicene Creed
would desire to communicate. A Unitarian member
of the Company did however communicate, and the
Church newspapers began to enlarge upon the
" scandal," the " blasphemy," and the " horrible sacri
lege." The storm that ensued was so violent that the
Revision was almost wrecked at the very outset. This
unhappy controversy is fortunately by this time ancient
history and may well be forgotten, but for the proper
understanding of the following letters it is necessary to
remark that the Upper House of Convocation, having
originally accepted the explanations of the Bishops
present at the service, later, moved apparently by
popular feeling, resolved :
That it is the judgment of this House that no person who
denies the Godhead of our Lord Jesus Christ ought to be
invited to join either Company to which is committed the
revision of the Authorised Version of Holy Scripture, and
that any such person now on either Company should cease
to act therewith.
On the other hand, the Lower House of Convocation,
after a very stormy debate, resolved by a bare majority
of three to express its " deep regret " and close the in
cident. 1 What my father thought of these proceedings
generally, and of the vacillating conduct of the Bishops
in particular, will be abundantly clear from the following
letters :
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
PETERBOROUGH, isf July 1870.
. . . The Revision on the whole surprised me by prospects
of hope. I suggested to Ellicott a plan of tabulating and
1 See Life of Archbishop Tail, ii. 63-74.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE
393
circulating emendations before our meeting, which may in
the end prove valuable. Though the time spent last meet
ing was, I think, thoroughly well spent, we cannot afford
an equal expenditure in future ; and the points which were
most discussed were in several cases obviously out of the
field.
I hardly feel with you on the question of discussing any
thing doctrinally or on doctrine. This seems to me to be
wholly out of our province. We have only to determine
what is written and how it can be rendered. Theologians
may deal with the text and version afterwards. The render
ing of irvevpa ayiov by " the Holy Ghost " is not satisfactory,
but no other rendering seems to me to be more satisfactory ;
and to propose to reject it on "historical," i.e. "theological,"
grounds (as explained) seems to me to be a desertion of our
ground. I cannot see how the theological and critico-
grammatical functions can be confused without serious in
jury. Perhaps we agree in spirit but express ourselves
differently. At least we agree in hope. I am called away.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
PETERBOROUGH, *]thjuly 1870.
My dear Hort Practically I think that we are quite
agreed. It is only when a principle is represented in an
abstract form that our differences of point of view must
appear. In the application to the special detail we were
quite agreed. . . . The next meeting, like a schoolboy s
second term, will probably be more important than the last.
The Bishop of Gloucester seems to me to be quite capable
of accepting heartily and adopting personally a thorough
scheme. Evidently he is anxious for success, and his vigor
ous defence of the Communion shows how fully he is pre
pared to justify an accomplished fact. On the other hand,
the Bishop of - - will, or may be, formidable. He has
no instincts of scholarship to keep alive his better self.
However, I am sanguine, as I am of the English Church.
I don t think that that wonderful Communion will be lost.
394 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
TRINITY COLLEGE, i6t/i February 1871.
My dear Hort Do you really do justice to the gravity of
the situation ? The Bishops have shamelessly broken a
contract, and asserted a right to recall and retract their
pledged word in the matter of revision. It amazes me that
this very simple view of the case was not present to their
minds. It is ridiculous now to discuss the terms of an
agreement which has been made. The time for that has gone
by. There was very much in the original scheme which I
disliked, but I accepted the charge offered to me as a whole,
and I cannot now submit to see the conditions altered on an
essential point. Nothing remains but to assert our complete
independence of Convocation. I wrote to this effect to the
Prolocutor and to Stanley yesterday. Lightfoot is of exactly
the same mind, and will see Stanley, if he can, to-day. I do
not think that I ever was more grieved and amazed. I had
thought over every kind of treacherous manoeuvre, but
repudiation had not occurred to me. Can it really be that
principles of honour die out in Churchmen ? It is a terrible
spectacle for our enemies. However, we must assert our
freedom. I do not see how it will be possible to continue our
work with the incubus of Convocation over us, and the con
sciousness of a violated compact. . . . The Bishop threw
away a golden opportunity. Lightfoot has written to him
very strongly. I have written to Dr. Vaughari and my own
Bishop l (too late ; but yet I have freed my soul).
I never felt more clear as to my own duty. If the Com
pany accept the dictation of Convocation, my work must end.
I see no escape from the conclusion. It is grievous most
grievous. TO 8 e i/t/mo." 2 Sooner or later it must be so.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS WIFE
TRINITY COLLEGE, \6th February 1871.
. . . Just now I am aghast at the Upper House of Con
vocation. As far as I can see they have broken their pledged
1 I.e. Bishop Magee, for whom my father always cherished a great
affection. 2 Let right prevail.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 395
word to the Revision Companies, and by so doing have
broken up the Companies. The question now is simply this,
Shall we go on in defiance of Convocation, casting it utterly
aside or not ? At any rate the trial must be made. How
bishops can forget honour I cannot understand. Surely we
have heard enough lately of one side repudiating a treaty, and
here our spiritual fathers do exactly this in the face of the
world. However, I have freed my own soul and Lightfoot
his. Still it is a sad case. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, i&tk February 1871.
. . . The disastrous mistake of the Bishops has caused me
such deep anxiety that I have been unusually vigorous and
active. However, it is an immense relief that the evil is
stopped at least. I think that the indignant protests of the
Cambridge group against the breach of faith may have con
tributed to the good result. I am sure that we did right, and
never felt clearer as to the course to be pursued. . . .
TRINITY COLLEGE, 20th Febrtiary 1871.
. . . Lightfoot and I had a long talk this morning with
the Bishop of Lincoln about the Convocation disaster. He
seems to have agreed with our Bishop. . . . But now, I
trust, all is over, though, if need be, I have a resolution to
propose, which would, I fancy, be carried to affirm our com
plete independence till our work is done. . . .
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
TRINITY COLLEGE, 22nd February 1871.
I can only send one line after carefully talking over the
whole question and consulting the Prolocutor, who has
Behaved most courageously throughout. I have no doubt
that our duty is to say nothing more now. Lightfoot quite
agrees with me, and the O.T. Company has acted on this
principle.
396 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To HIS WIFE
17 PRINCE S GATE, W., ist March 1871.
Our meeting yesterday was a very successful one. . . .
The work went forward as harmoniously and vigorously as
before. . . . Dalrymple dined here last night, and I am to
dine with him this evening, and then go to the Temple
Church. . . .
ST. PAUL S CHAPTER HOUSE, 2$th May 1871.
. . . We have had hard fighting during these last two days,
and a battle-royal is announced for to-morrow. Poor
wishes to have the MSS. reckoned at a certain value, so that
we may add up in each case, and save ourselves all the trouble
of discussion. It was suggested to him to draw up his
proposition on paper, and he is to be engaged in that labour
this evening. I should sooner dine twice than have the same
task. Probably he may find it hard to tabulate his ideas.
THE TEMPLE, igth October 1871.
. . . We shall certainly not finish St. Mark this session.
At present we are negotiating how to treat the last verses, in
order to avoid an immense discussion. Yesterday got
hopelessly confused, and Professor Milligan amused me by
quoting a Scotch minister s reply to a neighbour, who came
into the kirk while another (young man?) was preaching.
"What s his grund?" was the question of the perplexed
hearer who could not follow. " He s nae grund, he s
sooming (swimming)." I am afraid we often " swim " in
sermons and elsewhere. . . . Dr. Vaughan was full of fun,
and Cambridge (how fresh Cambridge is) last night, of his
degree and his undergraduateship. . . .
The two following letters are of a somewhat later
date ; but are added to the above to indicate that there
were times when my father s heart almost failed him,
and he was tempted to despair of the ultimate success
of the work of Revision to which he had sacrificed so
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 397
much. He was very rarely absent from the meetings,
and took careful notes of all the discussions and divi
sions. If he was unable to be present he would ask
some friend to take notes for him. These notes are
carefully preserved in twenty-one quarto volumes. His
habit of taking notes was very confirmed. He has
left behind him notes of the proceedings of most
meetings that he attended, including those of the
University Senate, and of the Bishops Meetings at
Lambeth.
To HIS WIFE
JERUSALEM CHAMBER, 27^ January 1875.
. . . Our work yesterday was positively distressing.
Another day like it will make me bitterly regret the months
which have been wasted. Whatever good had been done in
St. John i was undone, and I fear that that will be the sum
for the week. . . . However, I shall try to keep heart to-day,
and if we fail again I think that I shall fly, utterly despairing
of the work.
ST. PAUL S CHAPTER HOUSE,
2.1th Jamtary 1875.
. . . To-day our work has been a little better only a
little, but just enough to be endurable, and perhaps enough
to encourage hope. But I am not sanguine of this work
which takes so much of one s life, and the process is very
trying. . . .
It will be remembered that when the work of the
New Testament Revision was drawing to a close, that
Company was divided into three Companies, called the
London, Westminster, and Cambridge Committees, for
the purpose of beginning the Revision of the Apokrypha.
For various reasons, other members of the Cambridge
Committee were obliged to withdraw from the work, so
that Drs. Hort and Moulton, and my father, from 1881
until his removal to Durham in 1890, met once a week
398 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
in term time for the Revision of 2 Maccabees and the
Book of Wisdom. After his removal to Durham until
the completion of the work in 1894, my father con
tinued to take part by correspondence.
In 1 88 1 the Greek Testament, which had been so
long expected, at last appeared, and was widely wel
comed as an epoch-making book, and " probably the
most important contribution to Biblical learning in our
generation." The twenty-eight years of patient labour
represented by this work were begun and ended at
Cambridge. This great work should loom very large
in any record of my father s life, but its character is
such that it really merits separate treatment, which it
is hoped a careful digestion of the mass of correspond
ence on the subject may enable some one to bestow.
For the present let it suffice to quote a fair expression
of the general feeling about the book. 1
" To the world at large Westcott s tenure of the
Regius Professorship will always be associated with the
so-called Cambridge Text of the New Testament,
little as his professorship really had to do with it.
Probably in the whole history of the New Testament
since the time of Origen there has been nothing more
remarkable than the quiet persistence with which these
two Fellows of Trinity Westcott, aged twenty-eight,
and Hort, some three years younger started in the
spring of 1853 to systematise New Testament criticism.
They found themselves * aware of the unsatisfactoriness
of the textus receptus, and conscious that neither Lach-
mann nor Tischendorf gave such an approximation
to the Apostolic words as we could accept with
reasonable satisfaction. So they * agreed to com
mence at once the formation of a manual text for
1 From The Times, 2gth July 1901.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 399
(their) own use, hoping at the same time that it might
be of service to others. It says something at once
for their determination and their care that the two
famous volumes were not published till 1881, twenty-
eight years from their inception. True, the lion s
share of the accomplishment was due to Hort, who
wrote the masterly statement of their principles of
criticism in the second volume ; but the importance of
Westcott s co-operation appears from the declaration
of the two authors that their combination of com
pletely independent operations enabled them * to
place far more confidence in the results than either
could have presumed to cherish had they rested on
his own sole responsibility. To Westcott also must
be given the merit of having by his earnest cheerful
ness kept up the courage of his shy and nervous
colleague. Into the controversies of the rival critics
this is not the place to enter. The Revised Version,
as the English representative of the Cambridge Text,
is making its way slowly, but the * Westcott-Hort
theories hold the field. It may be that there will yet
arise a reactionary champion, as learned as and less
slovenly than Scrivener, better equipped and less
abusive than Burgon, but he has not arisen yet, and
if he takes the field he must do so after a prepara
tion as long and as honest as Westcott s and Hort s."
The Greek text, always on the eve of appearing,
somehow was never ready. The publishers despair
can be gathered from the following two notes :
To A. MACMILLAN, ESQ.
PETERBOROUGH, iqthjune 1878.
Dr. Hort has been over to-day to talk about the text. It
is almost unnecessary for me to say that, anxious as I am to
400 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
have the text published, I could not consent to any step being
taken without his concurrence. As far as I can see there is
a clear prospect that the book will be finished this autumn.
It is out of the question that it should be printed off in
August. There are some passages in the plates which will
require reconsideration, and this cannot take place till Dr.
Hort and I meet. You know how earnestly desirous I am to
have the book finished, and how modest is my estimate of
attainable perfection ; but yet I see clearly what ought to be
done, and what cannot be done. The time of going finally to
press must be left to us. I will undertake now that that shall
be the earliest date consistent with justice to the book, and I
believe that I may add a date in this year.
i*lth June 1878.
You cannot be more anxious than I am to get the text
issued, yet this would cost too dear in every way if Dr. Hort
were grieved and dissatisfied at the end. The testing of the
text by Revision has undoubtedly been a great advantage. I
have told Dr. Hort for what I have made myself responsible,
and we have agreed on the substance of the preface. There
will in the end, I trust, be no cause to regret avoidable delay,
for I do not suppose that we could ever go over the work
again, certainly not with the same care which has been
given.
The following letters to Professor Hort were written
as the deferred day of publication seemed really about
to dawn :
$MJuZy 1879.
Perhaps I am alarmed at the proportion of your notes. My
state is simply this, that I could not attempt to go into revision
in detail. I should never again be able to do the work as well
as I did when my mind was full of it. At the time I endea
voured to make the best judgment in my power, and I cannot
revise. The whole thing once done must abide as a whole.
Hence I should trust my old judgment rather than my
present. If in any places you come nearer to my old judg
ment I shall of course rejoice. All this I say before your
vni CAMBRIDGE 401
notes have been read that I may free my soul. To-day is to
be given to the notes.
Later.
The result is less alarming than my anticipations so far
but it is distracting work.
\2thjuly 1880.
I have been growing anxious about our text, but I have
no doubt that Macmillan will push on the printers. Just
lately it has occurred to me (an infinitesimal point) that in
Hebrews vi. 7 Pordvrjv should be uncial. The reference to
Genesis i. really helps the understanding of a very hard
passage more than appears at first, and I cannot doubt that
there is a reference. If you agree and the change can be
made I should like it : but I am quite satisfied as things are.
I have thought that there should be a very brief list of ortho
graphical peculiarities simply a list for I hope that the
text will find its way to schools. We did not decide whether
there should be any brief appendix to the text, nor did we
divide the making of it provisionally. I think that I could do
something now, though Macmillan has suddenly asked for a
new edition of the Canon.
The Westcott and Hort Greek Testament (text)
appeared on 5th May 1881, only a few days before
the publication of the Revised Version of the New
Testament.
This coincidence perhaps led adverse critics to con
found the two works. Yet as a matter of fact the
Greek text underlying the Revised New Testament
differs considerably from that of the two Cambridge
scholars ; and, although privately printed copies of the
latter had been placed in the hands of the Revisers,
they did not accept any new reading, unless, after full
discussion, a majority of two-thirds were in favour of
the change. As my father has said, both in the matter
of the Greek text and its translation, " each Reviser
VOL. I 2 D
402 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
gladly yielded his own conviction to more or less
serious opposition. Each school, among the Revisers,
if the term may be used, prevailed in turn, yet so as
to leave on record the opinion which failed to obtain
acceptance."
The Introduction, which explains the methods of
textual criticism, and the application of critical prin
ciples to the text of the New Testament, and in fact
contains the editors justification of their text, did not
appear till some months later.
2,-^rdJune 1881.
It was far better on all accounts to send the MSS. to the
press without waiting for me. On Sunday week I have to go
to Windsor, and with Commission I feel bewildered. At
present it is impossible to get any quiet time.
I have been thinking very often how we could make it
clear that the Introduction volume is your work. I have done
what I can privately, but I feel very strongly that the fact
should be made known publicly. It would be impossible for
me to seem in any way either to accept or to allow to be
offered credit for what is yours. The best plan I have been
able to think of is for me to write a few lines in my own
name at the beginning. You may think of something better.
27th June 1881.
I am very glad that you do not object to the note. It has
been on my mind for years. I do not think it can take any
form but one, a prefatory note at the beginning. It is hard
to be cold and formal enough. I have put down something
which you can criticise. A note to a journal would be im
possible ; a note in the text might be overlooked. The only
alternative which had occurred to me was a second title-page,
but on the whole, if you agree with me, I think the note will
be simpler and better.
Dr. Abbot s letter is very generous. I send a varied
replica. How can he have time to write so fully and care
fully ? He fills me with shame.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 403
Dr. Hort consented to the insertion of a note in
the Introduction (p. 1 8), although, he said, " I should
have preferred that the work should go out simply in
our joint names unless, of course, it contained matter
for which you preferred not to take responsibility,
which, however, I do not gather to be the case."
The Introduction did not appear until September.
Having been informed by Dr. Hort that it was ready,
if not actually out, my father at once wrote to him :
BUXTON, loth September 1881.
I am glad to send my hearty congratulations on the ap
pearance of the Introduction, the tidings of which has really
taken me by surprise. Again and again I have almost given
up hope that the whole would be completed as you wished.
Now that is done and the way lies open. I often wish that
I could be as certain of other things, of interpretation for
example, as of text. It is hard to read in the light of a past
age, but I am inclined to think that in the New Testament
nay, the whole Bible this is only a partial and preliminary
reading. Certainly St. John is of no time.
Some further matters connected with the pubMshed
text are touched on in the following letters :
BUXTON, Michaelmas 1881.
I see no objection to Dr. Scrivener s request, but we must
keep to WH, which has been already settled by the Queen s
Printers and Dr. Schaff. Wh or Hw are absurd. We have
preserved our separate individualities to the present, and to
merge us into one (as Tr) 1 is not to be thought of. I think
that Dr. Scrivener will see this. WH is neither awkward nor
ugly, and it would be easy to make a character bringing the
two letters close together. That, however, is their concern :
we maintain WH.
1 The method of citing Dr. Tregelles in critical notes to New Testa
ment.
404 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
2%th October 1881.
My dear Hort I cannot read Mr. Biirgon yet. 1 A glance
at one or two sentences leads me to think that his violence
answers himself. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
1 My father could never be persuaded to treat Dean Burgon s criticisms
seriously. He was, I believe, amused by the following lines sent to him
by a friend :
For private circulation only.
VERSES" MORE BURGONENSIUM "
Says the Dean to himself as he penned his retort,
" I think I ve exhorted my friend Dr. Hort.
And as for poor Westcott, I ve well warmed his jacket
With a nut hard to crack let us hope he may crack it.
My logic, as clear and unyielding as crystal,
Has boycotted Ellicott clean out of Bristol.
So now we may trust that each reckless Reviser,
Taught by me to be sadder, may learn to be wiser.
Henceforth I alone represent Convocation ;
Henceforth I alone am the Voice of the Nation ;
Henceforth, if I choose to condemn Sinaiticus,
My fiat s as plain as the Law in Leviticus.
If B, C, and D I condemn as unsound,
No critic to quote them I ween will be found.
My praise is a proof, and my blame is subversive
Of versions and codices, uncial or cursive.
Henceforth when I speak let the critics be mum ;
Let Tischendorf tremble and Durham be dumb.
Let no waistcoat, no cassock, no gaiters, no breeches istir,
Without leave of license from me, John of Chichester.
P. S.
If the claims of Greek Testament critics be reckoned,
I think Canon Scrivener s certainly second.
But the work which one critic has done, and done well,
* The Author alone of his Being can tell. *
His learning and manner are truly patristic ;
His style, as a critic, decidedly fistic.
My modesty will not allow me to name
This writer though Europe re-echoes his fame.
But cease, O ye sons of the Church, to despair,
While I, Johnny Burgon, my fisticuffs square ! "
yd January 1884.
* See The Revision revised.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 405
Almost immediately after his return to Cambridge
my father was invited by the Council of the Senate to
be the University s representative on the Governing
Body of Harrow School. Concerning this portion of
his manifold work Bishop Welldon says :
" I would gratefully acknowledge his loyalty to the
school which he had served for many years as a
master. Even after his removal to Durham he re
mained a member of the Governing Body of Harrow
School. He interested himself in my own election to
the Headmastership. It is a pleasant memory to me
that, on the day when I was elected, as I left the
presence of the Governing Body, he followed me out
of the room, and as he grasped my hand and offered
me his good wishes, he said, You will not forget the
sacred words TTICTTOS 6 /ca\a>v. Then after a pause,
with the familiar sunny smile lighting his face, he
added, * I think there is force in the present participle.
As a Governor of Harrow School he was wise enough
to leave the headmaster and the masters alone. He
seldom or never proffered his advice ; but he was ready,
if I asked for it, to give it. Once he paid a visit of
two or three days to Harrow and delivered a series of
brief addresses upon Education to a number of school
masters gathered from different public schools. He
had not himself been a schoolmaster of the ordinary
type. He was not a strong disciplinarian. He did
not take a regular Form. But by his influence upon
the boys who knew him best, and upon the society in
which he lived, by the breadth of his culture and the
sanctity of his example, he made Harrow a nobler and
holier place than it could have been without him.
" He entertained some views which were not popular
in the Harrow world. He was a constant advocate of
406 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
the home boarder or day-boy system. He did not, I
think, care much for the unrecognised influences which
enter so largely into the formation of English character.
But no Governor of Harrow School ever displayed a
more generous sympathy with the whole wide field of
human learning ; none took a grander or nobler view
of Public School life in its relation to the Gospel and
the world."
My father was also the University s representative
on the Governing Body of the extensive Harper Educa
tional Charities at Bedford. This involved him in many
visits to Bedford. On one occasion he found oppor
tunity of making a " pilgrimage " to Elstow. He thus
describes it in a letter to his wife :
CAMBRIDGE, loth February 1874.
My journey to Bedford is over, and I have really had a
half-holiday, my dearest Mary. It happened that there was
not much business to be done. The objectionable measure
which I had feared might be carried out was abandoned, and
so a little after one I was free. The day was singularly bright
and fresh, and as I found that Elstow was not much more
than a mile from the station I resolved to make a pilgrimage
in honour of John Bunyan. The village is very quaint.
Bunyan s cottage is more changed than most, but for the
rest he would hardly be surprised if he were to visit the place
again. The railway whistle might startle him, but he would
find the open green in front of the church, the " public room "
in which he danced, the belfry where he rang peals, quite un
changed. There is no church porch, and I don t think that
there ever could have been one, so that I can t explain that
part of his story. I found that even the very dirty boys play
ing on the green a new school is building knew Bunyan s
name. The interior of the church, save a few paraffin lamps,
must be much as Bunyan saw it, and it could hardly have
troubled his puritanism by excess of ornament. The one
thing noticeable (except an Elizabethan monument over the
vin CAMBRIDGE 407
communion table) is a brass of an abbess carrying her pastoral
staff. Mr. Wickenden may know some other example. The
date is 1500. The inscription, too, was rather singular:
" Cujus animae et omnium defunctorum fidelium propitietur
Deus."
He also, while at Cambridge, not infrequently visited
Oxford, both for sermons and meetings. He was Select
Preacher there from 1877 to 1880.
On 22nd June 1881 the honorary degree of D.C.L.
was conferred on my father by Oxford University. He
entered in his text -book, on that day, eSoOrj TTO\V
TTO\V fyrrjOrjo-eTai, Trap" avrov. 1 In a letter written to
his wife a few days after this event he says :
2$thjune 1 88 1.
I am very glad that the Oxford visit proved so great a
success. We could not have been more happily housed.
The quiet of Dr. Heurtley s was delightful. We borrowed
The Times from Mr. Gates. It says : " The favourites were
General Menabrea, the Bishop of Limerick, and Dr. West-
cott." I hope that you may agree with its judgment. Mr.
Stuart is coming late to-night, and goes away early in the
morning, but he seemed glad to come.
In the following month he represented his University
as a pall -bearer at the funeral of Dean Stanley in
Westminster Abbey. Of the funeral he writes :
The service at Westminster was very striking : it was not
a religious service, nor a pageant, but a vast popular gather
ing. The Abbey does not lend itself well to a great function,
and the music was chosen without any regard to the character
of the building or of the congregation. Purcell is very beauti
ful when a small group of worshippers and mourners are
gathered together, but it was strange that his setting should
be used when thousands could not hear the most distant wail.
1 To whom much was given, of him shall much be required. St. Luke
xii. 48.
408 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I felt that a great opportunity was wholly lost. Think what
the effect would have been if " O God our help " had been
given out and gathered every voice ! But as a popular gather
ing nothing could have been more impressive. I saw standing
side by side Mr. Gladstone, Sir S. Northcote, and Sir R. Cross.
Where except in England (yet) could such a sight have been
seen ? Dr. Vaughan s picture of the young Stanley was very
touching, and new to me. I was rather sorry that he did not
quote the words written on Lady Augusta s grave : " Uniting
many hearts of many lands and drawing all to things above."
I went into the Abbey before a Commission meeting and read
them again, as the Dean had showed them me, and they ex
pressed (I thought) his own ideal.
In 1882, by the passing of the Somersham Rectory
Act, that Rectory was disannexed from the Regius
Professorship of Divinity. The Rectory was hence
forth vested in the University, and a Vicarage with
cure of souls constituted, the Rectory income being
divided between the Regius Professor and the Vicar.
The Rectory of Somersham, which was the main en
dowment of his professorship, had long weighed on my
father s mind. He was happily able to obtain the
services of his old friend Mr. Alder for a time for
Somersham itself; but there were three churches to
be served. He made a point of visiting Somersham,
and preaching both there and in the other churches on
great occasions, as at Easter and at harvest festivals.
The following letter to Mr. G. Cubitt, M.P., is an
indication of his earlier efforts to obtain relief from
an impossible charge :
To MR. G. CUBITT, M.P.
2$tk March 1876.
... As for Somersham, I have again written to Mr. Walpole
and asked him to insert, if possible, some clause in the Cam-
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 409
bridge Bill which will enable the Commissioners to deal with
the endowment. I think that adequate provision can be
made both for the Vicarage and for the Professorship.
Lord Salisbury s despatch on the India Civil Service is
one of the best steps ever taken for India, if it is rightly
interpreted in The Times. There is nothing that I have had
more at heart for the last six years.
The Regius Professorship had originally been en
dowed by Henry VIII. with 40 payable annually
by Trinity College. On this account the Regius Pro
fessor was regarded as a member of that foundation,
so that it was supposed that he did not at this time
become eligible for a Professorial Fellowship at Trinity
College. Two other colleges, however, St. John s and
King s, approached him with a view to his election
to their societies ; happily the movements of the King s
society were more expeditious, so that he was relieved
from the embarrassment of making a choice between
these two distinguished colleges. When he left Cam
bridge both King s and Trinity Colleges appointed him
Honorary Fellow. My father was greatly pleased by
his King s connexion, and endeavoured to do his duty
as a Fellow. He was regular in his attendance at
college meetings, and promoted small gatherings for
discussions on Sunday afternoons. Of these gatherings
the Rev. W. R. Inge, now Tutor of Hertford College,
Oxford, writes :
" Dr. Westcott used to invite the undergraduates to
informal discussions of religious questions on Sunday
afternoons. These meetings were generally attended
by from ten to fifteen undergraduates, and took the
form of Platonic dialogues, in which Dr. Westcott took
the part of Socrates, starting the subject, raising prob
lems, answering questions, and trying to make us think.
410 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
He always avoided the tone of the teacher or preacher,
and managed to make the discussion real, though we
were glad to be listeners for the most part. I took no
notes of what he said, and have only a general recollec
tion that he often spoke of human personality, pro
pounding mystical doctrines of the solidarity of human
beings, which then seemed to most of us rather para
doxical and difficult to follow, but which have since
come back to me associated with memories of his face
and voice. I remember that he spoke of the shame
which he felt in reading of any horrible crime, as .if
he were in some way partly responsible for it himself.
But whether we understood him or not, we always felt
that we were in the presence of a saint, and that it did
us good to see and hear him."
My father also from time to time preached in the
College Chapel, and Mr. Inge adds : " I also remember
a strikingly beautiful sermon which he preached in
King s Chapel soon after his admission as Fellow."
My father was a member of the Deputation from the
University of Cambridge which presented an Address of
Congratulation to the Queen in 1874 on the occasion
of the Duke of Edinburgh s wedding, and also of a
similar Deputation which presented Her Majesty with
an Address of Congratulation on the occasion of the
Jubilee in 1887.
" Of necessity," says Professor Stanton, " Dr. West-
cott s attention was chiefly engaged by the theological
studies of the University, and all that concerned them.
But he also took a keen interest in the work of the Uni
versity generally. He was a member of the Council
of the Senate from 1872 to 1876, and 1878 to 1882,
and of several important syndicates. He used to speak
strongly of the value of the experience to be gained
vin CAMBRIDGE 411
thus, and was a regular attendant at the meetings of
any bodies to which he belonged. One movement may
be mentioned of which both he and Dr. Lightfoot were
specially cordial supporters, that for University Exten
sion through the establishment of systematic courses of
lectures and classes in populous centres, of which Mr.
James Stuart was the originator. The idea of render
ing this service to the people of England attracted their
warmest sympathy."
For several years my father was one of the three
Cambridge members of the Universities Joint Board.
He delivered two memorable speeches on the subject of
University Extension, one in Cambridge, and the other
in London. The Cambridge speech was delivered in
the Senate House on 7th March 1887, at a Conference
on the Affiliation of Local Centres to the University.
In concluding this speech he says :
When I came back to Cambridge sixteen years ago (if I
may touch on one personal recollection), I came back with
some dim vague hope that the Cambridge in which I should
work would become in due time a true spiritual power for
England. I had not been there long when I found that our
friend Professor Stuart had already in a great measure solved
the problem. We have seen the solution progressing to com
pleteness through a double apprenticeship of fourteen years.
Is it too much to hope that to-day we see at last the
beginning of the end ? It does seem to me to be a memor
able day when we are gathered in this centre of our University
life under the presidency of our natural head, while we have
been just assured that our venerable Chancellor himself
would have been with us if his health had allowed him,
not so much to discuss as to welcome a scheme which
t makes University education practically co-extensive with the
country. And though 1 believe that few students compara
tively will use the privileges of affiliation so as to come
among us as our own students, yet I do believe that there
412 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
will be not a few who will win the title of Affiliated Students,
not a few who will bear it with honour to themselves and
with no less honour to us. So it will be that miners in
Northumbrian coalfields, artisans in Midland factories,
toilers in the country and toilers in the cities, will repeat with
glad pride what is not our motto only but their motto also,
Hinc lucem et pocula sacra^ when they find their lives en
lightened and purified, I will venture to say ennobled and
hallowed, by the conception of higher education which it has
been the privilege of this University to bring home to them.
They will feel that it is indeed from that source the light
comes ; and when the light comes, such a vision of eternal
truth as men can gain will not tarry long.
The London speech was delivered in the Tapestried
Room at the Charterhouse on 28th February 1888, at
a Conference held under the auspices of the London
Society for the Extension of University Teaching, the
Marquis of Ripon, K.G., being in the chair. Just a few
words from this speech shall be quoted :
I shall assume that the University Extension Lectures
have a direct intellectual aim. These lectures supply, I
trust, an agreeable recreation, but they are essentially some
thing different. They are designed to have a serious
educational use. Under this aspect we may regard them
either as a preparation for special work, or as a general
intellectual discipline. I know how great is the temptation
to adopt the former view ; to measure the value of learning
and knowledge by a material standard. But special training
is not the work of a University, and, if I may speak my whole
mind, I confess that I am alarmed and ashamed when I hear
the results of science treated as instruments for successful
competition; when I find the language, the methods, the
aims of war transferred to the conditions of commerce and
the circumstances of daily life. No University will lend
itself to the pursuit of such an end. Universities exist to
maintain and propagate a nobler faith. So far as we have
entered into their spirit, we believe, and we strive to spread
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 413
the belief, that life is as the man is; that if the man is
sordid, selfish, narrow, mean, his life, however affluent, will
reflect his character ; and, on the other hand, that there is
about us an inexhaustible store of unrealised possibilities, a
treasure of spiritual wealth, open to the poorest, which grows
with the using if only we know how to use it. And we
believe that true education opens the eyes of the soul ; that it
is a strength in the difficulties which we must face ; a solace
in the sorrows which we must bear ; an inspiration in
interpreting the new truths which claim to receive from us a
harmonious place beside the old ; that it offers to all a vision
of a larger order truly human and truly divine ; that it is not,
in the noble words of your motto, "a means of livelihood,
but a means of life."
As regards burning questions of modern University
politics it may be remarked that my father was opposed
both to the granting of degrees to women and to the
abolition of compulsory Greek. In the former matter
he signed a Memorial in which he expresses his
opinion :
I. That to tie permanently the Higher Education of Women
to the Higher Education of Men by granting the Membership
and Degrees of the University of Cambridge to Women would
be detrimental to the interests of the Education of Women.
II. That if Degrees are granted to Women in connexion
with the Examinations of the Universities of Oxford and
Cambridge, they should be conferred by some independent
authority, in a position to consider the various educational
problems which would arise from the point of view of
Women s education especially.
On the Greek question he says :
It appears to be established conclusively that the study of
Greek, regarded only as a disciplinary process, is of unique
value. Thus the question to be decided is not whether
Greek scholars of the highest order will continue to be found,
4 i4 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
but whether, if some knowledge of Greek is not required for a
degree, the large class of educated Englishmen who now have
the advantage of training in Greek shall lose it without the
prospect of any equivalent substitute.
In November 1885 the Regius Professor of Divinity
was engaged in obtaining signatures to what was
generally called the Cambridge Memorial on Church
Reform. The Memorial was not ready for despatch
until December. On the I4th of that month Professor
Westcott forwarded it to the two Archbishops, with the
following covering letter :
My Lord Archbishop I am instructed to forward to your
Grace copies of an Address which has been very widely signed
by resident members of the Senate of the University of
Cambridge.
It is hoped that your Grace will be able to bring the
questions to which it refers under the consideration of the
Bishops in your province.
Perhaps I may be allowed to add that the cordial welcome
which the Address has received from representatives of all
schools of thought in the University, to which I know no
parallel, is a most encouraging sign of the general support
which may be expected by the leaders of the Church in their
endeavours to frame wise measures of Church Reform. I
have the honour to be, your Grace s most faithful servant,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
The text of the Memorial was :
To THE ARCHBISHOPS AND BISHOPS OF THE PROVINCES OF
CANTERBURY AND YORK
We the undersigned resident Members of the Senate of
the University of Cambridge desire to lay respectfully before
you the expression of our belief that the Church of England
has long suffered serious injury from the postponement of
necessary reforms, and of our earnest desire that advantage
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 415
may be taken of the revival of public interest in ecclesiastical
questions for the authoritative consideration of temperate
measures of Church Reform, in order that they may be
carried into effect with the least possible delay.
Certain definite evils affecting portions of the administra
tion of the Church appear to us to need prompt correction.
As examples may be given, abuses connected with the sale of
patronage, excessive inequalities or anomalies in the distribu
tion of revenues, and difficulties in the way of the removal of
criminous and incompetent clerks.
But the reform which we believe to be most urgently
needed is a more complete development of the constitution
and government of the Church, central, diocesan, and
parochial ; and especially the admission of laymen of all
classes, who are bona fide Churchmen, to a substantial share
in the control of Church affairs.
Such a reform as this would in our opinion find a cordial
welcome from clergymen and laymen of all schools of theology
in the Church of England and from the nation at large. It
would do no injury to the organisation which the Church
has inherited from earlier ages, but would rather bring that
organisation into fuller and more salutary activity; while it
would enable provision to be made for meeting with greater
elasticity the growing needs of the time.
The Archbishop of Canterbury replied l :
ADDINGTON PARK, zgth January 1886.
My dear Professor Westcott May I ask you to receive, on
behalf of the signatories of the important Memorial from
Residents in the University of Cambridge, my sincere thanks
for their closely considered counsel on important Church
questions. These have long been matters of internal discus
sion, and good occasion has arisen for wider expressions of
opinion upon them.
1 The Archbishop privately informed my father that he thought that a
purely formal acknowledgment was all he required, and was rather dis
tressed that he should have seemed to treat the Memorial with less respect
than his brother Archbishop.
416 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
I need not assure you that such a Memorial is certain to
receive the best attention of the Bishops to whom it is
addressed, and before whom I propose to lay it on the first
occasion of their assembling. I have the honour to be, your
most faithful servant, EDW : CANTUAR :
The Archbishop of York replied : -
BISHOPTHORPE, 19/7* January 1886.
My dear Canon Westcott The Memorial which you were
good enough to send me a short time ago, and which has
been addressed to all the Archbishops and Bishops of the
Church of England, has received my most careful considera
tion. Whilst I must reserve for other occasions a reference
to the recommendations of the Committee in detail, I think it
right to say that the points raised in the Memorial are pre
cisely those in which I think reforms are needed. For a
great number of years a simpler way of dealing with criminous
clerks has been acknowledged on every hand to be an urgent
need of the Church. The sale of livings, as carried on at
present, has also been repeatedly condemned, and more than
once by the House of Lords.
The " inequalities and anomalies " in the distribution of
the revenues is a most proper subject of inquiry and im
provement.
I have long been in favour of the admission of " laymen of
all classes " to a " substantial share in the control of Church
affairs." When I have said that no Anglican Church, thrown
upon its own resources, has ever found itself able to dispense
with the aid of laymen in administering its affairs, I seem to
have said enough in support of the principle of a similar
change amongst ourselves.
So far I am able to assure you of my active support of
measures tending to secure the object you have in view. But
perhaps I ought not to leave the subject without one or two brief
words of caution. The measures which you recommend are
such as I should have supported at any time. The memorial
ists would not desire that any step should be taken under the
influence of the fear of disestablishment. I apprehend that
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 417
their meaning is that the recent struggle gives a better oppor
tunity for drawing attention to needful reforms, and for inducing
the legislature to adopt them.
I do not desire for my own part to abolish lay patronage.
The difficulty of dealing with lay representation is, perhaps,
greater than some might suppose. My experience is that
laymen would not give their time and support, as a part of any
council, in which there was no substantial work done, and
no substantial power exercised. An attempt to graft a lay
element upon the two Convocations might do good ; but it
would not be enough to satisfy reasonable demands. And yet
the Convocations must continue to be, so far as I can see, the
legislative body of the Church of England. The problem,
therefore, is to find sufficient inducement to the laity to take
part in the proceedings of a body which would not be the
legal representative body of the Church of England, and
which would have no power to enforce any decree, or carry
forward any change.
It would be painful to me to differ with the well-considered
conclusions of such a body as those who have concurred
with you in signing the Memorial. But my own opinions are
thoroughly in accord with those of the memorialists ; and I
think that a large number of persons of various schools of
thought in the Church might be brought to agree upon
measures for this object. I am, with every good wish, yours
truly, W : EBOR :
Of this Memorial my father says : " It appeared for
a short time that the desires of the memorialists would
find a speedy fulfilment. But the debates on Irish
Home Rule began soon afterwards. These engrossed
public attention, and the Memorial was forgotten."
It will be remembered that the Clergy Discipline
Bill was not passed until 1892, though it had pre
viously passed the Lords three times, and that the
Patronage Bill, under the name of the Benefices Bill,
was not passed until 1897. The House of Laymen
was an earlier effect of the movement.
VOL. I 2 E
41 8 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
On 8th December 1886 a meeting was held in the
Combination Room of Christ s College to consider the
propriety of procuring for presentation to the Univer
sity a portrait of Professor Westcott. The proposal,
which originated with Rev. Dr. Porter, had met with
the support of the Chancellor (the Duke of Devonshire),
the Archbishop of Canterbury, and nearly all the
Bishops who were members of the University, and
many other distinguished persons. Many interesting
tributes to the Professor s worth were paid on that
occasion. A few words may here be recalled.
The Vice -Chancellor (Dr. Swainson, Master of
Christ s and Lady Margaret s Professor of Divinity)
said :
It is now sixteen years since Dr. Westcott returned to
Cambridge. At that time, as possibly it is in the memory of
others as well as myself, applications were made to Dr. Light-
foot, who then held the position of Hulsean Professor of
Divinity, to induce him to be a candidate for the Regius
Professorship. The answer he returned to me was this : " If
you only knew the obligations I feel myself under to Dr.
Westcott the moral and spiritual obligations you would
not be surprised at the anxiety I feel to renew the connexion
between him and the University." Dr. Westcott was elected;
and the time was very short before that spiritual influence to
which Dr. Lightfoot referred was felt throughout Cambridge.
The very high ideal which he had himself placed before us as
to what the work of the Universities is, and what the officers
of the University should be, was soon exemplified in his own
conduct.
Professor Humphry, in seconding the main resolu
tion, said :
I feel, in the words of the Bishop of Durham, that there
is perhaps no man to whom this University, this country, our
Church, and indeed the whole Christian world, is more
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 419
indebted than to Dr. Westcott ; and, as the Master of Trinity
has just said, there is in his presence without reference to
his other great work a magnetic influence which is for good,
wherever he is and wherever we see him. There is no
variation in him in that respect. I cannot but think, if the
artist can portray the remarkable features of that face, the
magnetic influence of which I have spoken may, through it,
be continued on to the University in after years. It is a face
which represents with singular and forcible truthfulness the
character of the man ; so full, on the one hand, of earnest
ness of earnestness toned by gentleness, and toned by an
anxiety amounting almost to sorrow, an anxiety evidently to
be using his efforts to do good in the utmost possible manner.
And then, on a sudden, as the Vice-Chancellor has said, that
face flashes up into a genial smile, brightened by the reality of
a universal sympathy, by genuine kindness, and by love for
his fellow -men ; by those very qualities which give to his
character the great liberality which we all know he possesses.
One could wish for a portrait of each of those expressions
the intensely earnest and the unmistakably benevolent ; we
could then look upon this picture and on that, and feel how
complementary they are to one another, how they contribute
to make up the character of that admirable man. And also
one could wish to see him in another form as he goes up
and down Trumpington Street, with his books and manuscripts
under his arm, looking neither to the right nor to the left,
endeavouring, as it were, to overtake time, and bent seriously
upon the one object before him, which one object is certain
to be the prosecution of some good and useful work. It
passes the power of art to combine in one all those three
conditions, for no art can give in a single picture the complete
fulness of any man, and certainly no art can give the complete
fulness of one who has such a large measure of fulness as Dr.
Westcott.
Professor Stuart, M.P., said :
What makes me so glad to support this resolution is, in
the first place, that personally I have received the greatest
420 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
kindness from him in everything for which I have gone to
him, and more especially in respect of that part of the work
of the University which lies beyond the limits of the Univer
sity. There is no one whose sympathy has been more
encouraging and more practically useful in that work. The
high conception which Dr. Westcott has formed of what can
be effected by the University in this and in other respects, of
what its call to duty is, of what its ultimate aim may be, and
ought to be, is one of the grandest ideals I have ever come
in contact with.
The main resolution having been carried unani
mously, was carried into execution, and the portrait,
painted by Sir W. B. Richmond, was placed in the
Fitzwilliam Museum.
One of my father s latest public utterances at Cam
bridge was an address delivered to the Japanese Club
on " The Influence of Christianity upon the Character
of the English Gentleman." The chair was taken on
this occasion by Viscount Kawase, Japanese Envoy
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary at the
Court of St. James. In concluding his address the
Professor said :
The failures of Christians are no disproof of the inherent
tendency of Christianity. It is enough if it be shown that
the Faith, if received in its simple essence, must produce the
spirit which I have sought to mark. For the rest, the true
Christian type of character is still realised among us, as it has
been realised among us for a thousand years ; it is seen and
welcomed and honoured ; it spreads its influence even where
it is not directly acknowledged ; men yield to it unconsciously
the homage of imitation ; it maintains a standard of social
service and personal purity which inspires endeavour; and
there is no reason to suppose that, if the Faith were to perish,
the character which it helped to form and to sustain through
out the whole growth of the nation would itself survive.
vni CAMBRIDGE 421
The following selections from resolutions of various
bodies which were forwarded to my father on his
leaving Cambridge, enable one to form an idea of the
estimation in which his services there were held :
SPECIAL BOARD FOR DIVINITY
The Special Board for Divinity, on the removal of Dr.
Brooke Foss Westcott to the See of Durham, desire to place
on record their deep and grateful sense of the single-hearted
devotion with which he has unremittingly laboured in the
discharge of the office of Regius Professor of Divinity, which
he has held for the past twenty years, and of the encourage
ment and sympathy which they and other students and fellow-
workers have received from him. They would also express
their thankfulness for the great services which he has rendered
to the University, and to the Church and Nation, by his in
spiring teaching; by the many measures which he has promoted
for the development of theological studies in Cambridge ; by
the stimulus and guidance he has given in many cases, and
the sympathy in others, to efforts in the cause of Foreign
Missions and other practical Christian movements, on the
part both of Graduates and Undergraduates; and by the
active share he has taken in the general life and work of the
University, and in the consideration of large social questions,
which has served to set forth the living relations of theology
to the actual needs of men. F. J. A. HORT, D.D.
Lady Margarefs Professor of Divinity.
Chairman for the day (i2th May 1890).
On behalf of the Board. 1
1 The other members of the Board at this date were
Dr. Lumby.
Professor Kyle.
Professor Stanton.
Professor Kirkpatrick.
Professor Creighton.
Dr. C. Taylor.
Dr. Sinker.
Mr. Watson.
Mr. Sharpe.
Mr. H. C. G. Moule.
Mr. H. M. Gwatkin.
Mr. Whitaker.
Mr. A. T. Lyttelton.
Mr. F. Wallis.
Mr. Schneider.
Mr. Harmer.
Mr. Barnes.
422 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
CLERGY TRAINING SCHOOL
The Council of the Clergy Training School, at their first
meeting after his departure from among them, desires to
express, however inadequately, to the Lord Bishop of Durham,
their sense of the unique obligations under which he has laid
the school. They recall with the deepest sense of gratitude
not only the fact that he has presided over the school from
the first, but also his unwearied devotion shown alike in the
lectures which he has given to the students each term for
nine years, and in his intimate knowledge of the details of
the work of the school and of the circumstances connected
with the several members. They cannot but assure him of
their earnest and respectful sympathy with him in the high
office to which he has been called.
Signed on behalf of the Council, F. J. A. HORT.
CAMBRIDGE MISSION TO DELHI
The Cambridge Brotherhood wish to convey to Dr.
Westcott, on the occasion of his appointment to the See of
Durham, the expression of their deepest gratitude for all he
has done for, and been to, the Mission from its commence
ment to the present time. They are well aware that to
whatever degree the scheme for a Brotherhood Mission,
mooted in Cambridge in 1876 by the late Bishop of Lahore,
has taken root and prospered, it has been due, under God, far
more to his wisdom, energy, and sympathy than to any other
human agency. While they cannot but grieve over the
change which will make it impossible for them henceforward
to turn first and most naturally to him, as chairman of the
Cambridge Committee, in every time of doubt and difficulty,
or onward movement and success, they yet cannot but rejoice
that the work of Bishop Lightfoot has been by that same
change so largely ensured against suffering that loss and dis
continuity which seemed almost inevitable. They rejoice too
that the powers and learning by which they have themselves
so immensely benefited are now to be devoted, in one of the
vni CAMBRIDGE 423
largest of spheres, to the work of the whole English Church,
and they earnestly pray that God, who has called him to this
work, may grant him all needful wisdom, strength, and
patience.
COMiMITTEE OF THE CONFERENCE ON THE TRAINING
OF CANDIDATES FOR HOLY ORDERS
The Committee of the Conference on the Training of
Candidates for Holy Orders, at their first meeting after the
Consecration of the Lord Bishop of Durham, desire to record
their deep sense of gratitude for his inestimable influence,
counsel, and labours in instituting the Conference and for
warding its work ; and it is a source of great encouragement
to the members of the Committee to know that the principles
which his Lordship has so strenuously promoted in respect to
the education of the Clergy will now be represented by his
great authority in the counsels of the Bishops.
(Signed) A. J. WOORLEDGE,
Hon. Secretary of the Committee of the Conference on the
Training of Candidates for Holy Orders.
Bishop Welldon, who, as a Fellow of King s College,
was brought into close association with my father, writes :
" To the late Bishop of Durham, or, as all Cam
bridge men still love to call him, Dr. Westcott, my
spiritual debt was and is so profound that I shrink
from estimating what it has been, still more from trying
to pay it by my poor words. There were few so happy
moments of my academical life as when I went, with
the present Bishop of Exeter, 1 to tell him the good
news of his election to a Professorial Fellowship at my
College. I had known and revered him long before ;
but from that time I was brought into intimate associa
tion with him, and it lasted until I left Cambridge. It
was afterwards renewed when he was a Governor and
I was Headmaster of Harrow School. As Regius
1 Dr. Kyle, now Bishop of Winchester.
424 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Professor of Divinity at Cambridge, Dr. Westcott laid
himself out to help young men, especially if they were
interested in theological or ecclesiastical studies, and
most of all if they wished or hoped to take Holy
Orders. I recall his attendance at the meetings of the
University Church Society ; he was generally a silent
listener there, but now and then he would express his
opinion, and I know that not a few members of the
Society would have been glad if he would have ex
pressed it more frequently. But it was, I think, a part
of his policy to let the undergraduates and others have
their talk out and not to interpose with the voice of
authority. I recall too the meetings which he held on
Sunday afternoons in the rooms of one of the Fellows
of King s College. At these he would encourage young
men to state difficulties, to advance arguments, and to
criticise beliefs ; he was always tolerant, and even
respectful, to the views put forward, although they
must, I am afraid, have often seemed to him sadly
puerile, and I know that his spirit as much as his
reasoning made a deep impression. It struck me that,
while his thoughts and words were often above the
heads of ordinary men, yet he evinced a remarkable
sympathy with their minds.
" But I felt at Cambridge that one side of Dr.
Westcott s life was known only to the few persons who
saw him on Sunday evenings in his own house. He
did not invite many men to visit him then. I think
there were never more than half-a-dozen outside his
own family. But he gave them his best. He talked
to them upon any subject that occurred theology,
literature, music, architecture, science, social economy,
sometimes even upon politics. It was then that I
learnt the wide range of his interests. Nihil tetigit quod
VIII
CAMBRIDGE
425
non ornavit. He threw fresh light upon so many
subjects. He set them all in relation to the doctrine
which was in his eyes the central truth of human
history the Incarnation. It was astonishing how
GATEWAY AT CAMBRIDGE
much he knew. He struck me then as being one of
the men who seem greater as we draw nearer to them.
I felt that he deserved a place among the few decisive
intellectual and spiritual forces of his day."
The following are some of the selected letters be
longing to the period, 1870-1883 :
426 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To HIS WIFE
TRINITY COLLEGE, \6th January 1871.
Can you fancy me, my dearest Mary, once again seated in
attics in Neville s Court which I can call my own ? My first
thoughts turn homeward, not without hope that the separate
work for a short time may be good.
I cherished my pictures most dutifully till I got to Cam
bridge. Then I reclined them carefully against a square
pillar, while I went in search of my perverse luggage, and
when I turned round shortly after they were lying on their
faces, thrown down by some reckless porter. I shook them
gently and only heard a feeble sound and then consigned
them to the omnibus. You may fancy that I was afraid to
open the parcel when it finally reached my rooms. But,
marvellous to say, the first and then the second print was
safe, and at last all ! Is not the omen good ?
My first work after visiting the University library was to
take Dr. Lightfoot out for a walk.
In connexion with that " perverse luggage " it should
be noticed that my father had an extraordinary capacity
for luggage-losing. This was mainly due to the ex
tremely deferential manner in which he addressed
railway porters. He seems not infrequently to have
conveyed to them the impression that it was perfectly
immaterial when or whither his effects were dispatched.
Yet he invariably added to his gentle words what he
would call " a little silvery persuasion."
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
CAMBRIDGE, 24/7* January 1871.
It seems almost incredible that I should be once again in
Neville s Court, in rooms almost opposite to my old rooms,
working as I used to work twenty years ago ; and yet not
vin CAMBRIDGE 427
quite as I used to work, for there is something of weariness
now, and something of slowness too. Perhaps when I am
fairly started in my lectures it will be better, but I don t
think that I could deliberately face the last four months
again. I am by no means sanguine about lecturing. If I
have any hope it is in the informal work, which is as yet
wholly uncertain and may prove useful. . . .
To HIS WIFE
TRINITY COLLEGE, i&h February 1871.
I see that I shall prosper like the camel, and I have
already come very nearly to my straw a day. However, if
you are engaged in public duties all is well. . . . The
Lectures go on very fairly. Some of the men take excellent
notes, and by hard work I find that I can just keep up with
my work. The Saturday Examination is a great relief.
TRINITY COLLEGE, zoth February 1871.
Another afternoon, my dearest Mary, spent in house
hunting. I took Lightfoot with me to give him a taste of
the stern realities of life. ... At present my precedence at
St. Mary s is agitating the mind of the Council ! It is not
quite certain where I ought to sit : portentous difficulty !
For once I am inclined to claim an upper seat which I have
not taken.
To HIS SECOND DAUGHTER
CAMBRIDGE, 2isi March 1871.
My dear Katie Thank you very much for the nosegay
of snowdrops which you sent me. The flowers were quite
fragrant when they came, and flowers have a happy way of
saying quite quietly all that they ought to say.
You may be amused to have a little account of our day at
Windsor. It was at first expected that the Queen would
receive as many members of the University as wished to go,
in addition to an official deputation of twelve ; but on
428 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Monday a message came to say that if possible only six
should come, and certainly not more than twelve. The Vice-
Chancellor has asked me to go, according to usual custom,
and he still thought that I ought to go. So on Wednesday I
started to the station early, having provided myself with
all the finery required for the ceremony. At the station I
met the Bedells. They seemed to say that it was doubtful
whether the Queen would receive any one but the Chancellor.
Still I went on, and in due time found myself at Paddington.
All kinds of curious-looking clerics began to gather on the
platform. Among them I saw nearly all my Nonconformist
friends. Not long before the train started our two members
came up. They asked if they were to be of the deputation.
I could only say that their names did not appear on the list.
They thought, however, that it would be worth while to go to
Windsor. When we got near to the Castle the sun shone
magnificently, with a few white clouds sailing in the deep blue
sky. It took me but a few minutes to dress, and I joined
the V. C. just in time to see him ruthlessly send back Mr.
Walpole and Mr. Beresford Hope. . . . So, passing from hall
to hall, we came to the Waterloo Gallery, where lunch was pre
pared. When we entered, it was half filled by the Corporation
of London, some in scarlet, but most in dark blue robes. The
Lord Mayor, the Mace and the Sword, and the Cap were as fine
as in a fairy story. Our long journey made lunch a reality ;
and a little before three, the deputations of the two Univer
sities were called away and led through new suites of splendid
rooms to a drawing-room next to the presence-chamber.
Here the two Chancellors joined us. Our Chancellor main
tained our dignity by his star and garter. The windows of
the room in which we were had a most beautiful view over
the gardens, in which a fountain was playing in the sunshine,
and the time of waiting was not long. A message came that
the Queen had arrived. The Oxford deputation formed in
order. We stood all attention, and the great doors at the
end of the room were thrown open. At that moment it was
a beautiful sight. The Queen, in black, white, and diamonds,
was seated on a raised seat in the middle ; on each side were
princesses and ladies of whom I saw little. The Oxford
vni CAMBRIDGE 429
members, bowing low, passed up to the throne. They soon
stepped back, still bowing : the doors were closed ; and then
our turn came. One or two queenly smiles greeted the
Chancellor. He and the V. C. knelt down and kissed hands,
and we withdrew, and the doors again shut out royalty from
us. ... I went with the V. C. and the Master of Trinity to
see Wolsey s Chapel, which they had not visited. While
there we were fortunate enough to meet the Dean, who
showed us some of the new works at the Castle : and then it
was time to return. ... I think that a great ceremony is a
majestic and solemn thing. So, you see, I came back a very
loyal subject, and rejoicing to have warmed my loyalty at the
very hearth itself.
Perhaps grandmamma will like to see this note, if you can
send it to her, for I don t think I shall be able to write
another.
With love to all. Ever your most affectionate father,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
TRINITY COLLEGE, 2Gth April 1871.
... It was a most happy fact that you were able to
sketch the prospects of revision before our meeting. I feel
very proud of Cambridge. She must complete her work.
KE IY. 1
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
[No date] 1871?
My dear Benson I am trying to do with most unhappy
effect what you can do perfectly, write in a railway train :
but it is of necessity. If you are able to look at the little
papers you will see that the Cathedral work for the clergy
remains quite untouched, such as we have before talked over
it. I hope that it will prove that the Universities and
Cathedrals naturally work together. At least there is very
much for our future ministry which the Universities cannot
1 Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
430 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
do. The Harrow meeting to-day has caused me to miss
Lightfoot. Tell him that I have much to talk about.
Among other things I have had an inquiry from Norris as to
the likelihood that the Council of the new Theological
Examination will be willing to undertake the religious inspec
tion of Training Colleges. What do you say to this ? The
work is doubtless most important, but beset by difficulties. To
think that I have not thanked you for your sermon, which I
read at once with the greatest pleasure ! I thought of
answering your inscription, but I am in trouble about
quantities and no dictionary is at hand.
Non equidem infitior crude pretiosior auro J st
Argilla artifici sic fabricata manu.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
I have searched in vain for Dr. Benson s inscription.
Perhaps the cunning reader can reconstruct it. My
father appears to have sent him his Religious Office of
the Universities, which fact moved Dr. Benson, when
sending his sermon, to declare that he was sending
" clay " for " gold."
To HIS WIFE
ST. PAUL S CHAPTER HOUSE, 2&thjuly 1871.
. . . Our Gospels came yesterday and were distributed.
The book looks very nice. Hort is quite satisfied.
The Dean asked me to preach at Westminster next
Sunday, but happily I had a very good answer. Mr. Gregory
breakfasted here yesterday. He has life enough for a whole
chapter.
THE TEMPLE, \$th October 1871.
. . . Dr. Vaughan is most kind, and seems to be really
pleased to talk over subjects of common interest. I have
written to the Vice-Chancellor accepting the nomination to
the governorship of Harrow. Lightfoot said decidedly that
VIII
CAMBRIDGE 431
I ought to do so, and though at first the work may be
serious, I may be able to do some good. At least I have
some strong opinions. We dined quite alone yesterday even
ing. To-night Lightfoot is coming. At about nine several
of Dr. Vaughan s students came in all very nice fellows.
He has about a dozen here, and he is now, while I am
writing, taking them in his study. It is really a very busy
life he leads here. . . .
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
PETERBOROUGH, St. Stephen s Day, 1871.
My dear Benson Every good wish to you and all yours
from all mine and me. Lightfoot was with us yesterday :
what a delight it would have been if we could have .seen you,
but on Sunday I too was away at Somersham, and the lighted
windows were all I saw of what was, I believe, a cheering
nave service. . . . Did I tell you that we had our meeting of
the resident members of the Faculty, and we propose to join
in Holy Communion on 5th February, and to have a meeting
in the evening. You will, I fear, be at work again then.
However, I will, all being well, send you a notice.
Don t call me ungrateful for not thanking you before for
your sermon : the fact is I have not yet been able to read it.
Time sweeps on swifter than ever. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS WIFE
17 PRINCE S GATE, S.W., 26th June 1872.
. . . Absolutely I was obliged to take the chair at the
Manuscript Meeting yesterday evening, as the Dean of West
minster was late. It was not a large meeting, and not a very
sanguine one, yet in its way pleasant from the zeal of Mi
Shaw, who got it up. To-morrow I am going to breakfast with
Dalrymple ; and in the evening there is the Bishop of Glou
cester s dinner a small party and one of the guests is the
Bishop of Manchester, whom I shall be glad to meet. There
is no appointment to Lincoln yet, as far as I can learn. Dr.
432 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Lightfoot might have had it, had he wished, and he seemed
to say that his decision simply rested on the fact of my being
at Cambridge, so I am glad I am there. Benson has been
suggested, but there seem to be obstacles in the way.
L. breakfasts with Mr. Gladstone to-morrow, and we may hear
something more. I could moralise on the vanity of things,
but you could do this at least as well.
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
(On a passage in the Epistle to the Colossians)
PETERBOROUGH, yd June 1874.
My dear Lightfoot I have read the notes with the greatest
pleasure and the most complete agreement. One or two
pencil marks are on the side. My divisions are entitled
rather differently :
The Son in relation to Created Being
i. In His essential nature.
ii. In virtue of the Incarnation.
I prefer this to making the divisions : i. the Natural ; ii. the
Moral Creations. In TT/OWTOTOKOS we have a relation to God
and creation, I think. If I may trust my note, Athanasius
in the passage to which you refer points out that /zovoyev^s
and TT/DWTOTOKOS express the same idea predominantly in
regard i. to God; 2. to Nature. Perhaps you may think it
well to emphasise this true correlation a little more. It is
an immense satisfaction not to find one point of real differ
ence in a passage which (surely) is not commonly apprehended ;
I can trust myself the more as I have my analysis by me.
Ever yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE REV. F. J. A. HORT
PETERBOROUGH, 2nd August 1875.
My dear Hort We have indulged in dreams of all kinds
for our holiday. At last I think it not unlikely that we may
vin CAMBRIDGE 433
go to Brittany. The trip is apparently inexpensive and easy,
and a little sketching (if I can still draw a straight line) will
be more refreshment than anything. The places suggested
to us are St. Malo, Morlaix, Quimper, Auray, Vannes ; and
then by Le Mans to Havre. I had fully hoped to see
Lightfoot again before his flight. He talked of going later.
I shall be very glad to hear that you are perched on some
height. When I read Dr. Smith s circular that " B is now
finished " my faith was tried, but still I did believe. It will be
a relief to have done with it.
As for the second essay, it will only be necessary to
propose the subject, and have it. accepted, and then you can
treat the publication as you like. This I should do by all
means. It will be a gain for you in every way to take
your Doctor s degree soon ; and this essay will fall in
excellently. The exercise can be accepted at any time
before the degree, so that the use made of it will not delay
the publication.
I was very sorry to see but little of Arthur l while he was
with us, but he seemed happy with the boys. Ever yours
affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
CAMBRIDGE, yd February 1876.
... I am glad that you enjoyed Oxford. You must be
our " interpres." For my part, I can only say that I have
spent (mostly in vain) days and days in the effort to make
Oxford men understand Cambridge ways of thinking, and
quite naturally they forget that there is such a place. I am
grieved to hear that Holland follows Mylne in making sin the
centre of his philosophy. Surely the true centre is " in the
image of God made He him." Perhaps this brings to a
point the contrast. We (I suppose) are Scotists by nature,
and I gather from The Guardian and the Church Review
that they are Thomists as well. Do what you can for us.
1 His godson, Sir Arthur Hort.
VOL. I 2 F
434 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To PROFESSOR LIGHTFOOT
PETERBOROUGH, yh ftme 1876.
It would be very well to get our whole body interested in
the Commentary, but I am not clear about the division.
That might be thought of after. The O.T. wants scholarly
instincts more than the New, and I seem to have some ideas
about it which I should like to see carried out. It would be
on every account desirable to enlist S. and P.
PETERBOROUGH, \stjuly 1876.
The memorandum was intended for Bishops chaplains.
The reference to P. E. 1 was simply an explanation of the
manner in which the work could be accomplished. I was
anxious to get some plan for discussion before the autumn,
because the Bishop of Peterborough promised, in that
case, to bring it before the Eastern Bishops at their meeting.
My wish was to get some memorandum in which Benson,
Hort, yourself, and I could agree as a basis for future action.
However, if you are clear against doing anything, I say no
more. I met the Bishop of Hereford here the other day.
He seemed to be heartily in favour of some such plan.
Ever yours, B. F. W.
To CHANCELLOR BENSON
CAMBRIDGE, loth November 1876.
I am very glad that the Bishop of Lincoln is favourable to
the plan of which we asked. It is important, I think, and
Lightfoot agrees with me, that we should not put anything
forward in our own names. I saw the Bishop of Peter
borough and had a long talk with him. He entered heartily
into the general idea, and at his request I put on paper my
own notions (corrected by L.), and he will take what he likes,
and make the plan his own, and so bring it forward. If the
Bishops can agree in principle we can discuss details.
1 Preliminary Examination of Candidates for Holy Orders.
vin CAMBRIDGE 435
To MR. G. CUBITT, M.P.
PETERBOROUGH, \*jth Augttst 1877.
My dear Cubitt Let me thank you most heartily for
your mission subscriptions. I hope that you may be right
about our Delhi scheme. Perhaps if you have the oppor
tunity you will mention it to Cambridge men. It will be a
real gain to the University in every way to have a direct
connexion with characteristic mission work.
All being well we hope to get away for a change in Sep
tember. Sometimes I wish that I could have the summer
for private work, but even now one can do a little Cathedral
work. This terrible war is a great sorrow. I can see no
possible end yet which can be distinctly desired. Surely our
policy years ago should have been to foster the creation of a
South Slav confederation. But it seems to be too late now.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To THE BISHOP OF DURHAM
CAMBRIDGE, zqth November 1879.
I had some conversation with Hort, and he agrees with
me in thinking that courses of lectures on practical work and
perhaps on special points in Apologetics might be very use
ful. Indeed I think that pastoral subjects could be best
treated in this way, and this, I think, was the conclusion of
the Board. Hort, however, has scruples about destroying
the last fragment of the original Advocate s work.
To HIS WIFE
EASTBOURNE, nth January 1880.
I had a very long morning in the British Museum yester
day, and saw several things worth seeing, but had, of course,
to find that just the part of the catalogue of MSS. which I
wished to see was not done in the right way, so that it was of
very little use. However, I got a good many useful references.
436 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
Mr. Alder met me at the station, and I am now duly installed
in his study. . . . The thought of to-morrow 1 sets one think
ing. Much, very much, seems less definite than it once did :
less definite, but not, I trust, less real. Every year makes
me tremble more at the daring with which people speak of
spiritual things. Yet a body must have a voice, and words
necessarily become fixed and gather associations round them.
Happily what one ought to strive after and how only grows
clearer, and the limits within which effort is confined grow
clearer too. All that can be done seems to be at last full in
sight. I hope that you will all have a quiet, bright day with
the old hymns. Love to all.
LONDON, i$th January 1880.
My journey to London, my dearest Mary, has been safely
accomplished, and now we are discussing Harrow business, in
which time for a note must be found. Yesterday was on the
whole a pleasant day, full of many thoughts. I was very glad
to get your note, which was indeed quite unexpected, for the
post is mysterious. What you say is most true, and is con
stantly in my mind. One shuts up bright hopeful thoughts
too much, but they really exist and have their work in silence
and secret. I do feel more thankful than I can say for the
children, who all seem to be anxious to do their duty, and do
feel you know this that this has been by God s blessing
your work and is your work. I can only look on with joy
and you must find in the thought strength and joy enough
for life. But I must end. Ever your most affectionate,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To PROFESSOR HORT
HASTINGS, 22nd March 1880.
I am not, as you know, at all sanguine about the good of
such a journal as is proposed, and still less can I see what
we gain by treating everything as an open question. Some
dogmatic conclusions seem to me to be essential to all argu
ment : e.g. how can I argue about a record of miracles with
a man who denies that there is a God? Moreover, I re-
1 His birthday.
vni CAMBRIDGE 437
pudiate with all my heart the assumption that a Christian is
" apologising " in any sense when he sets forth what he holds
to be the simple truth; and I feel that I owe it to the
Christian Society to guard this conviction very jealously.
Sometimes, indeed, I fear that we do not make it clear
enough that we regard our convictions as being of serious
importance. If I ever have anything to say I should wish
to say it where it might be supported by and (if possible)
support those who think with me. I express myself very
rudely, but you will translate the words. As far as the
Memorial goes, which I have not been asked to sign, I do
not think that I agree with any of the pleas ; but I can fully
understand how you may feel very differently. There are
great things to grasp and make clear, and I am only anxious
that little things should not come in the way.
The air here is really invigorating, but at present I have
chiefly slept. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
PETERBOROUGH, \%thjune 1881.
One word only about the Press and revisers. My very
strong feeling would not be touched by " six royal 8vo copies,"
which I could procure anywhere for so many shillings if I
wanted them. But I do feel more strongly than I dare say
that the Presses ought to have given each reviser something,
however trifling in value, which could not be bought : a copy
on large paper, or on paper of a peculiar kind. I cannot see
that any inconvenience could have arisen. The cost would
have been trifling, and the indication of thought welcome.
I feel sure that every reviser must think as I do, though I
have the audacity of my own convictions. The E.C.C. has
hardly opened out yet. I have succeeded in getting leave
to have the questions printed, but with an ominous warning
from the Archbishop of York that "that is entering on a
wide field " ; which is our only hope.
2yd June 1881.
I am glad to hear what you have told me about the Press,
though I am again very sorry that you had the trouble of
438 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
writing it. Unhappily all is and must be as much an
anachronism as the large paper. What a sad treasury there
is of lost opportunities which we are always enriching to our
own bitter loss !
To THE BISHOP OF DURHAM
PETERBOROUGH, afhjuly 1881.
My dear Bishop Very many thanks for the magazine.
It was most refreshing to read the Newcastle speech. I shall
almost despair of my country if the people fail, but that seems
to be impossible, however deplorably the place may have been
neglected. I was at Windsor yesterday. The Dean was, as
usual, full of the kindest inquiries. It is delightful to see
how he cherishes his recollections both of Durham and of the
Bishop of Manchester.
To-day, with the thermometer at I know not what, makes
me think of the North : but the corn must be thriving. Ever
yours, B. F. WESTCOTT.
To HIS WIFE
CAMBRIDGE, 2nd Sunday in Lent, 1882.
It is now clearly dawning on me that I have to preach
next Sunday, and I must try to think my sermon into shape.
But I am sure that we have too many sermons. It would
be much better to ask people to think in silence for twenty
minutes. Life is getting too full of occupations. One never
can be quiet. I think that I shall try to sleep all the Easter
vacation. There is multitudinous talking going on, and my
note will not get forward. But why should it ? The symbol
is sufficient.
To THE REV. J. LL. DAVIES
CAMBRIDGE, icthjuly 1882.
My dear Davies It is not a form of words to say that
your opinion that the little book may do good is a very great
vin CAMBRIDGE 439
encouragement to me. The papers have been lying by for
four or five years.
As to the Fall, I certainly think that that selfish isolation
and consequent declension of man from the normal develop
ment which is represented by the Fall brought with it the
present conditions of death. You may remember h.ew in
very old days I could never hold that time entered as an
element into the absolute relation of things. I mean that I
have always found it equally easy to see how a thing " causes "
another when it follows it as when it precedes. The whole is
one in the divine order. So I have no difficulty in holding that
if my eyes were opened I should see how the visible disorders
of the world as we see them that is very imperfectly are due
to " the Fall." How little we see of death itself. Mr. Hinton,
I fancy, had something of the same view. Surely nearly all
our difficulties come from making our present selves the
measure of all things, as if " five senses " could exhaust the
universe. That is why I was anxious to say what I have
said of the Resurrection. As a revelation it seems to have
been misunderstood even more by believers than by sceptics.
But we ought to talk of this. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
To F. D. PERROTT, ESQ.
CAMBRIDGE, zoth October 1882.
Dear Mr. Perrott I had sketched out a plan in my mind
for the windows in the chancel at Somersham which I should
have been glad to carry out, but now, as you know, my con
nexion with the parish has practically ceased, and in a few
weeks will formally cease. My wish was to have a figure of
John the Baptist opposite that of the Virgin, to represent the
Old Dispensation, and to have the work executed by Heaton
and Butler, who executed the window for Mr. Mason. This
idea would probably be agreeable to you. I do not see why
you should not put up an inscription like Mr. Mason s. As
far as I have a voice I should gladly assent to this. Yours
very sincerely, B. F. WESTCOTT.
440 LIFE OF BISHOP WESTCOTT CHAP.
To PROFESSOR HORT
BALLATER, 4^ September 1882.
. . . The enclosed frond is, I think, unmistakable. I
came upon it unexpectedly in a walk this morning, but I
generally question tufts of Lady-fern in mountain districts.
We had, I think, settled all the details as to the small
edition, so that there can be no reason for delay.
The tidings from Addington leave little hope that the
Archbishop will be able to do much work again. Our Com
mission will, I am afraid, go to pieces, and at the best be
wrecked in Parliament without his help. You see even
Ballater has not yet brought hope.
Archbishop Tait, of whose illness the above letter
makes mention, passed away before the end of the
year. My father had latterly been brought into fairly
close connexion with him through the work of the
Ecclesiastical Courts Commission. The following letter,
addressed to his successor in the chair of Canterbury,
Archbishop Benson, is in reply to an invitation to take
part in a private conference to consider a certain plan
of literary service to Christianity :
To THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
CAMBRIDGE, \6tk April 1883.
My dear Archbishop What can I say ? At least that I
shall come under false pretences if I admit by silence that
I have any ideas on the subject which can be put into a
literary shape. I distrust all verbal arguments. The life,
that is all, and it is enough, if it can be lived. However,
how can I say " No " to the pleasure of coming ? Mrs.
Westcott sends her own answer. Ever yours affectionately,
B. F. WESTCOTT.
VIII
CAMBRIDGE
441
To ARCHDEACON FARRAR
CAMBRIDGE, St. Mark s Day, 1883.
My dear Farrar Every word which you say is, I think,
most true, and, if you have time to cut the pages of the little
book, you will see that in my way I have tried to suggest the
thoughts which you emphasise. The spirit of ritualism and
the spirit of scientific materialism seem to me to be essentially
identical. Both tend to hide from us that which is eternal,
of which things of sense are the transitory symbols. If only
we come back to life^to the life of the New Testament (or of
the Bible) to the Life, we shall have hope. I am very glad
to have the lecture which I could not hear. It brings back
many memories of school days, which grow clearer in many
ways as time goes on and I must thank you too, though in
a different way, for the Commentary. For the last few years
I have been thrown a good deal among Rabbinic fragments,
and the more I can understand the more I value them : but
then I understand very little. As for reading, I can read
nothing, except a little Greek Testament. But that is enough.
Ever yours affectionately, B. F. WESTCOTT.
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